


Bad Moon Rising

by Heldpeach



Series: Lifelines [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Earth, Alternate Universe - Magic, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Chantry Negative, Dark Shit is Dark, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heartbreak, Minor Anders/Male Hawke, Mischief, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Music, My First Smut, NSFW, Original Character Death(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polytheism, Racism, Rivalmance, Romance Secondary to Plot, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Swearing, Thedosian politics, Torture, What's the opposite of Fluff, Xenophobia, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 55
Words: 194,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heldpeach/pseuds/Heldpeach
Summary: ***Part one complete***On hiatus.  Family emergency.\\PLEASE READ THE TAGS.  I WILL NOT BE POSTING WARNINGS BEFORE EACH CHAPTER .//\\CHAPTERS WITH SMUT MARKED WITH *//Finally made a Spotify Playlist.  UPDATEDBad Moon Rising is my first venture into MGIT fanfiction, my not so secret vice, with a twist.  The self proclaimed 'Luna' was already a trained practitioner of Earth Magicks before ever setting foot in Thedas.She is a stubborn mess and in the words of one of my readers, "... as magicky as magic can be ..."  However she is deeply flawed, makes rash decisions and yes ... even mistakes.  Those mistakes have consequences.I wanted to write about a character who would struggle, even with her gifts to aid her.  I wanted to write a fantastical AU, with a playlist to match, and unexpected turns.This is the result, and I hope you have as much fun reading it, as I am having writing it.





	1. SLEEPER

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: All Dragon Age characters and the world of Thedas belong to BIOWARE. I am NOT claiming any of this work as canon, nor am I making money off it. I'm just letting my imagination run wild and wanted to share some day dreams with the internet.
> 
> Only the Protagonist, and other Original Characters belong to me. Feedback, both positive and negative, would be greatly appreciated. However please remember that this is the first time I've written a Fan-fiction … ever.
> 
> Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**

The first thing she noticed was that her bones ached. The second thing she noticed was the cold breeze caressing her face. The smell of grass and old leaves carried on the wind wasn't what startled her awake though, despite the fact she never opened the windows in her bedroom. Nor was it the fact that she was clearly lying outside in the dirt. No, what caused her eyes to fly open was the fact that she was stark naked.

_You've finally lost your damn mind. Where the fuck am I? Where's Flynn?_

She set aside her concern for her son for the moment. Blinking watering, bleary, eyes she glimpsed a perfect blue sky complete with fluffy white clouds. The buzzing of unfamiliar insects in her ears seemed deafening. She turned her head gingerly to look around, the bones and muscles of her neck straining. Something didn't feel right as though the world were pressing down on her. Her breath fogged the air with each pull of her lungs, increasing the sense that something was wrong.

Her thoughts came slowly, as though she were struggling through cold syrup. Trees and long grass were swaying softly in the gentle breeze. She guessed that it was autumn based on the falling leaves, which was disorienting. The last she recalled it was early spring and they had completed the rituals of the vernal equinox some weeks past. She had absolutely no idea where she was and no memory of how she'd gotten here.

_Think ... THINK, don't panic. I don't feel hung over, and I don't do drugs, so I can safely rule that out. 'The Shroud' must have found me, but then why am I still alive? I'm still outside and defenseless. I need a weapon._

Picking up a small rock she stood on shaky legs, every muscle screaming in protest, nearly causing her to fall into the tall grass like a toddler. She was standing in the middle of a rocky meadow, near the edge of an unfamiliar forest. She couldn't see anyone else around her, or any sign of a kidnapper. The grass was only trampled where she had lain and she didn't notice any tracks. Groaning in pain she forced herself towards the treeline in search of something better to wield. While checking the ground for a larger rock or sharp stick; something about the grass caught her attention.

It was the wrong color. That was probably an odd thing to latch onto given the dire circumstances she found herself in. Still, she had actually made a point of noticing the grass that grew on their homestead's hidden acres. It didn't really ever go completely yellow, even in the middle of winter. At least it didn't anywhere in the mountains she had called home this past year. However the grass she was standing in, was full of a variety of unusual colors, including red.

Sniffing the air, she noted the lack of the grassy scent of manure. She lived near several small farms that raised dairy animals, among other things. She also didn't detect the stench of car exhaust or smog, both of which made her physically ill when she was forced to travel into a large city. That had been one of their many reasons for leaving city life in the first place so many years before. Fresh country air and all that ... fresher anyway.

The pressing issue of being hunted by a shadow organization had also greatly helped in the decision. The countryside made it easier to disappear quickly. The air here was too clean, almost the way it smelled after a good hard rain, without the scent of water in the air. She'd never smelled air so crisp and clean in her life. It left her feeling slightly giddy, and not a little dizzy.

The mountains she glimpsed through the trees didn't do anything to ease her troubled thoughts. Those were snow capped peaks, more in line with the Alps than any mountain ranges in the United States. The trees here looked far older, and more gnarled than she was used to. It was as if someone had painted the concept of an old forest then brought that painting to life.

She suddenly wished her husband were with her, she could almost see him sitting there with his pens and sketch pad. Before she could be drawn into depression she put thoughts of him aside. Instead she wondered what had become of her son. Did he think she had abandoned him? There was no doubt in her mind the others would care for him in her absence. They were the closest thing they had to family since Marcus ... She was utterly lost, naked, and alone. How would he be coping? Was he even still alive?

_Deep breath sweetie. Act now, panic later. Head to higher ground. Try to get your bearings. First priority water. And people … well maybe people after I make myself a sweet loincloth. Or maybe a toga. Togas are cool. Who am I kidding I'll be lucky to make a leaf bikini. My rescuers will just get an eyeful of awesome!_

The morning was frigid, and she took advantage of the frost gathered on all the leaves and grass to get a small drink. She was grubby, and cold, but she wasn't too concerned, she was alive and that was all that mattered. She stopped and laughed at herself, cold she might be able to do something about. Feeling silly for not having tried before, she reached out to pull in some ambient energy to fuel a spell ... and nothing happened.

She frowned. Not since she first started learning to control her magic as a child had this been an issue. She tried extending her second sight and again ... nothing happened. She couldn't see magic anywhere around her. In fact where she should have felt the comforting presence of the world's energy, all she sensed was a hollow ache. An absence that seemed to eat at her, making her body seem too heavy. The more she strained to find it, the heavier and stronger the ache she felt, so she reluctantly stopped.

_Okay, what the fuck is going on here? No ripples, no ley lines. What on Earth is wrong with me?! What kind of forest has no flows of power?! What have they done to me?!_

Diana tried to calm her breathing. She had studied and scoured every codex, and scroll she could get her hands on, for every scrap of magic since adolescence. Filtering through the chicanery and 'cult crap' had taken well over a decade. She had been luckier than most of the gifted, as she had been able to secure a mentor. That mentor had taught her how to evade those that hunted them.

Being untrained wasn't an option, the untrained lost control, too many incidents and they were noticed. Unexplained power outages and freak weather were hard to hide. She had used her abilites to save their lives more than once. The magic was an extension of her entire being. Having it gone felt like an open wound, or like the earth had been poisoned against her.

Earthly magics were not flashy like those portrayed in video games and movies. They were subtle, much like the practitioners themselves. Coincidental accidents, weather manipulation, Sigils for strength, faster healing, faster reflexes, telepathy, communing with spirits, enhanced mental acuity to name a few. These, and more she'd yet to learn, were the tried and true tribal magics that had existed long before 'approved' history. Not that she was an expert at all of them, she was really only good with a few. She had never mastered telepathy, and her son had always been the better healer. It was also the reason 'The Shroud' hunted them down mercilessly. They had been exterminating the old Shaman bloodlines for centuries.

_Well at least I can still see my aura. Maybe I just can't draw in energy, maybe I hit my head and damaged something?_

Silently she drew on her own internal energies and visualized the **Sigil of Warmth**. A relieved sigh escaped her lips as the chill left her and she chuckled as steam rose off her skin from the moisture that had collected there. That had been far easier, and more effective, than anything she'd ever cast. Then she felt a wave of dizziness envelope her, as well as a sharp pain deep in her bones, making her drop to her knees with a gasp. It felt as if the world had suddenly turned against her personally.

_That took waaay more out of me than it should have. What Gods did I piss off to deserve this? When I find the son of a bitch, that did this to me ... Okay ... I just need to focus on something, a goal, I can freak out after I'm out of danger._

Slowly, she tested her limbs to see if she could manage walking. To her surprise much of the pain had already diminished, though the ache remained, and going through a short stretching routine helped. Resuming her search for a weapon she found a fairly large, sturdy, branch. Not only could she use it to help while walking, it doubled as a bludgeoning weapon. Resigning herself to a miserable hike she pulled her way up the hill; trying to find what seemed to be the highest point. Picking a tree, and feeling oddly like a child again she hoisted herself up into the low hanging branches. It was harder than it looked.

Most people don't think about the logistics of climbing a tree naked. The jagged bark cut into her skin, leaving scrapes on her knees and small abrasions that easily could have been avoided by wearing a pair of jeans. She knew her skin was going to itch for hours after this little foray into the heights. Steadily, she climbed upward, cursing softly under her breath, only stopping once the tree began to sway. Taking a deep breath she looked out over the horizon.

_OUCH ... I can hear Marcus now. "I don't know what you can see from up there, but from down here the view's great!"_

She smiled at the imagined comment, she could almost hear her husband's voice. There wasn't much to see from up there, other than more forest, but down in the valley she thought she caught the glimpse of a river. Where there was water, there were sure to be people. All she had to do was follow it downstream. Disturbingly, she hadn't seen a paved road anywhere, how had she gotten here so far from a path? Feeling much better now that she at least had a destination she carefully climbed to the ground. Retrieving her branch she headed down the hill with renewed calm.

Soon she was scrabbling over boulders, inching her way down narrow animal trails, and generally making a mess of herself. She shuddered to think what the paths in the forest might look like when she was already having trouble in the open grass. She had never been so grateful for the calluses on her feet. Was her son out there alone as well? She quickened her stride at the thought of her twelve year old boy struggling in the wilderness. She had been preparing him to survive all his life, but that didn't mean he was ready.

_You know, I never thought to try hiking naked. At least I already go barefoot most of the time at home. Also I don't sunburn easy; thank you Asian birth mother. Besides a little dirt never hurt anyone ... unless it was gross ... like full of grossness ... damn it brain._

Several hours later the wind was picking up, and she just knew it would make her hair a disaster. The clouds didn't look heavy, so she wasn't concerned that it'd start raining on her any time soon. If she'd had more power she would have considered ensuring it. Her feet ached and had started to crack from her long trek. She sat down gingerly, trying not to simply flop onto the ground while working out the soreness of her limbs.

Her hair was very long, down almost to mid thigh. It was also very wavy and curly, and had a tendency to react to humidity causing it to puff up into a cloud of black tentacles clinging to everything around her. It needed to be tamed now, or would be impossible to untangle later. She quickly threw her hair into a simple dutch braid, using a long piece of grass to tie the end off.

_Not that I really need that. My hair just stays in a braid by itself normally. Whew, I really need some water soon. A few more hours in the sun like this and my carefully cultivated pasty, winter, skin is going to turn bean brown. At least I'll tan evenly. Heh, no tan lines._

The meadow had ended some time ago, and she found herself trudging through the underbrush of the woods. The small plants and branches brushed her bare skin, leaving irritating scrapes and rashes. She was thankful that the insects here showed no interest in biting her. The trees were very different from the ones that were found near her home, but the scent and sound of a forest helped to set her mind at ease. She was making good time, having actually set a pace. The years spent outdoors as a child, and then later fleeing from place to place, had conditioned her to it. Being barefoot among the trees would have been quite pleasant if not for the fact she had no idea where she was.

She had managed to slake her thirst drinking from small pockets of moss and really hoped she would reach the river soon. She was more worried about water than food as humans could go longer without eating than drinking. Still, she stuck to her course, down the mountainside. Downhill was easier, and water tended to run downhill, so hopefully she would find a spring or brook...or a puddle. She would settle for a brackish puddle right about now. The river couldn't be that much farther, unless her sense of distance was really that inaccurate, which was possible. She stifled yawn, after yawn, the longer she forced herself to keep walking. Soon she was just too tired to continue, despite her stubborn resolve to do so. As the sun began to set she settled at the base of a large tree that had some of its roots exposed in a sort of short wall.

_Yay, a wind break. Gods I would give anything for a comforter, or a shawl, or maybe even a scarf right now. Okay not anything ... I'm not that desperate yet. I'd like that stricken from the cosmic record._

Clearing a small area of fallen leaves she gathered some kindling and spent the next half hour trying to coax flame to wood. She succeeded in creating a small fire, and silently thanked her husband's insistence she learn survival skills. Diana knew how to bank a fire in theory, but she never really got the chance to implement her plan. Exhaustion finally took its toll, and she passed into a fitful sleep with her back against the roots of the tree.

She dreamt of Marcus that night. Meeting him for the first time. Their first kiss. The first time they spent the night together. Their wedding. Their first fight. The first time they made up. The birth of her son. She was usually in control of her dreams, but tonight she was a passenger. Replaying the only moments that mattered to her, and the only things she didn't have.

  


 


	2. PLOP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:  
> I've tweaked Old English, and combined it with Proto-Germanic as the basis for the Common tongue in my Alternate Universe. It is NOT accurately old English, or Proto-Germanic and is not intended to be.
> 
> Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

It was early afternoon when she woke to the bitter taste of disappointment and morning breath. She was still in a forest; not her comfortable bed or her equally comfortable cabin. Bits of twig and leaf were already nesting in her hair, and she did her best to remove the more offending pieces. The chill that danced across her skin reminded her, that she was still naked. She realized with a heavy heart that it meant her wedding, and family rings were missing, leaving only the faint tan lines that would inevitably fade. She thought it odd that this had not occurred to her the day before, but with everything that she was going through, it wasn't very surprising.

_I'm too old for this crap._

Stretching, she tried to ease her aching back and neck. When that failed she twisted, sighing in relief as they gave several soft pops. Her stomach was also reminding her that it was very empty and demanded breakfast. Too bad she had no idea what was edible here. She might poison herself if she tried to eat a random plant. Forcing herself to stand she finally noticed the unmistakable sound of rushing water. She had been so tired the previous night it had escaped her notice. Shaking herself from her melancholy, she ensured the fire was out, then headed towards the river.

_Later, think about it later. It could get you killed right now. There's a logical explanation for all of this, buried somewhere deeeeeepp deeeeeeepp down in the chaos that is your life._

As she crested the hill she finally saw it, a picture perfect little river, happily burbling along a rocky shore. She eagerly began sliding down the path, along fallen leaves and debris, at break neck speed. The clear, fast flowing water beckoned her, with the power only water to the thirsty can have.

 _It's only a few meters across, but I'm pretty sure this qualifies as a river. English makes no freakin' sense. How can there be no word to differentiate between a river that is only four meters wide, and a river that is miles across?_ _Its too big to be a brook or a creek ... yes because this is what is important right now._

The sound of a small waterfall thrumming nearby was like music to her. Throwing caution to the wind she waded into the waist high water and gave herself a quick dunking. She came up sputtering from the cold, and flung the water from her face with a loud laugh. Leaning down she placed her whole face underwater and drank deep, then collapsed on the bank in relief.

She listened to chirping birds as she lay on a nearby boulder in the sun drying herself for about an hour, drifting between wakefulness and sleep. Their song was interrupted by the loud growling of her stomach. It also scared a group of white deer away from the bank and into the forest. She smiled to herself, affectionately dubbing the creatures 'deer-a-lope.' They reminded her a little bit of the Halla from the Dragon Age series, but these were larger and more graceful than those CGI imaginings. Too bad they hadn't seemed interested in eating anything in the area other than grass. Then she may have been able to find something for herself.

She grimaced at the noises her stomach was making, she didn't have anything with her to shut it up. The hunger pains drove her to finally risk eating some nearby ants. Her Korean mother had enjoyed getting her to eat new things, at least it wasn't silk worms this time. Unfortunately they weren't covered in chocolate as she'd enjoyed them as a child. But desperate times, desperate measures, she would just have to grin and bear it. Her snack was interrupted by the rather loud, and embarrassed clearing of a male throat. Startled from her thoughts she glanced over her shoulder at her uninvited observer.

_That man is on a horse. Good job Diana! It would have been a little more noteworthy if the horse was riding the MAN but ... on that note yay! I found people! Or...person found me!_

She stared. Long moments passed, well into 'stage three' of awkward, and she simply couldn't stop staring. She'd seen plenty of people on horseback in her life before. Not even counting all the movies she'd seen. This was no cowboy, or rancher, and she couldn't shake the feeling she recognized the tack from somewhere. Then there was the man himself, he was HUGE, well over 6 foot tall with very wide shoulders. Compared to her measly 5 foot 4 inches, he was gigantic. The sun was glaring off his helmet and into her eyes making it hard to focus.

_What on Earth is he wearing?_

Blinking to clear her eyes she tilted her head to get a better view of the stranger. Sitting on the rather impressive looking horse, the man was decked out in what appeared to be full plate armor. On closer inspection she paled. He was not wearing just any full plate armor, but full plate emblazoned with a very recognizable standard. The large winged helm he wore was also very familiar.

_TEMPLAR?! ... Templars enslave and murder Mages ... You use magic... ERROR: Templar Order is Fictional! Reboot recommended..._

" **Please tell me you're cos-playing...** " she whispered as she continued staring at what was definitely a man dressed in full Templar gear. His aura was strange, close to the body, and tightly under control. The fear in her voice and face must have registered, because suddenly he dismounted and approached her with hands outstretched. His tone reminded her of how you speak to a skittish animal. She didn't have anything against cosplay, she just didn't like Templars. She had experienced the type of persecution they were playing at first hand.

When she didn't respond to him he slowly removed his helmet holding it under one arm. Then slowly looped the reigns of his horse into the branches of a nearby tree. He was speaking to her in something that sounded vaguely Germanic. It was so similar to English it was slightly frustrating to listen to as her mind tried, and failed, to translate it.

" **I have no idea what you're saying, dude.** " she said while blinking slowly.

He looked very confused, then spouted something that sounded like a different language. Now he sounded like a very angry Russian. As he made his way closer to her she took in his appearance. He looked haggard, his eyes slightly bloodshot, streaks of gray running through his unkempt dark hair. Sporting a rather large salt and pepper mustache, he also looked like he hadn't slept in days. He gestured towards himself urgently, looking very put out when she didn't immediately do as he was bidding. Now she was frowning too, and she stood up and turned to fully face him. His face flushed beet red, and he hastily averted his eyes while still continuing to beckon her.

 _Oh, right, naked._ _This guy is taking the cloistered Templar thing a little too seriously. Lucky for me, I have no shame._

She laughed at their predicament, then gestured around herself and shrugged while smiling. " **Sorry, I seem to have misplaced all my clothing. You don't happen to speak English do you? I'm sorry to barge into your little get together, but I could really use a phone.** " She tried a little Korean for good measure and the man looked even more confused. That didn't really surprise her, it wasn't common to find someone who spoke it. She tried to keep smiling, but the rest of his entourage rode into view behind him. Looking every inch the angry Templars, they eyed her with suspicion.

As they too dismounted one of them cried out, "Cuman ut af pe ea, culice! Iu es en pleoh min hlafdia!"

"Mara lihhen pe hoer! Fargetan hiri, pe Agloec es neah." another said while leering at her.

The first Templar turned back to look at his companions clearly angry and growled, "Sio es openlice afray ondh al ana. Behabben lihhen pe deal af unsar Ordre sceolde!" He was definitely the man in charge, the other Templars seemed to be deferring to him.

Suddenly she realized she was in a very dangerous position. There were now four of them and only one of her. Just because they were cos-players didn't change that she was a naked woman in the midst of very large and angry looking men. Grabbing her branch she quickly darted back into the water while making sure they were all within her sight.

"Lokon ut! Pe Agloec!"

The four Templars all drew their swords in unison, and her blood ran as cold as the water she was hiding in. She knew the sound of real steel when she heard it, those were not LARP weapons. They all began speaking at once and she couldn't help but shudder at the menacing tone. Backing farther into the water, she noticed the older Templar was no longer looking at her, but past her, his countenance grim.

_I'm going to regret this. I know I'm going to regret this._

She looked over her shoulder, and nearly had a heart attack. Standing on the opposite bank and swiftly advancing toward her, was what could only be an Abomination. It was unimpeded by the water, instead hovering above it. Nevermind that she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was no such thing as an Abomination. This was a being of corruption. Everything about the twisted thing screamed to her senses that not only did it exist, but it wanted to kill her. " **Well I'll be damned...** "

Instinct took over and she cast **Draconic Might** with the little personal energy she had remaining. Though there was no outward sign she'd done anything other than take a deep breath, adrenaline washed through her in a torrent and sent her body into overdrive. Already, stronger than average the spell made her even stronger. She slammed the branch into the side of "Ugly's" head with enough force to splinter her makeshift weapon. The Abomination staggered as its face made a satisfying crunch; gray/green blood spraying into the river. Pieces of wooden shrapnel embedded itself into the cancerous looking skin. That bought her time to get onto the bank by the Templars and out of the freezing water.

Her triumph was short lived as she suddenly collapsed, nausea and dizziness causing her to lose the contents of her stomach, which at this point was little more than bile. Her bones felt like they were breaking, and her breathing was becoming labored. Sweat poured from her as she used her shaking arms to keep herself from simply laying down in her own vomit. She glanced at the Templars, sure that one of them must have used their abilities on her, but they were all focused on the Abomination.

Whatever was inhibiting her magic must still have been in effect. Without the ability to draw in the energy of the world, her body was going into shock. She had nothing left to channel. The spell should have lasted at least ten minutes, increasing her strength and endurance long enough for her to survive this encounter. Instead, she was even more vulnerable. If the Templars could not kill this thing, she was as good as dead.

The creature turned its attention back to her, clearly enraged, ignoring the Templars in favor of the weakening woman. It lunged toward her but was stopped short by the advancing Templar unit. Angry at being cut off from its intended target the Abomination began throwing around magic very different from her own. It flung some sort of exploding acid towards the Templars, and then a very obvious fireball. The armored men seemed unphased using their shields to block the worst of what it threw at them. Working together, they corralled the possessed mage, and systematically began hacking pieces off. It howled in pain and screamed something in the same language the Templars were using, its voice reverberating through her skull, making the nausea worse.

_Great job, you "taunted" the damn thing. You're going to die because you decided to "tank" an Abomination armed only with a branch._

Diana tried to back away from the gruesome display; too stubborn to simply lay down and give up. She didn't sense, or see what the Templars did next, but it suddenly let out a heart stopping roar and seemed to stand there dazed as they continued to attack it. She let out a groan of disgust, as what she was pretty sure was part of its entrails, slurped down her right shoulder, and landed with a plop.

Despite the damage it was taking, it managed to fling two of the Templars into the river and continued its attempts to reach her. The horses that were tied nearby began to rear and panic, trying to free themselves. Diana tried to crawl away from the ongoing fight as she was still too close. "Ugly" was lasting much longer than she had thought it would. She let out a yelp as it laughed cruelly, wrapping its long clawed hand around her neck, then lifted her in its choking grip. It brought its face close to hers and actually sniffed her, then seemed to ask her a question in its disturbing voice. It was unfortunate that while she could smell its sickening breath, she still had no idea what it was saying.

"HWAT ES IU LUFLIC PING?"

The bruising grip on her throat tightened as she desperately clawed at the monster in an attempt to breathe. Just as she was starting to black out from the lack of oxygen the Templar in charge managed to separate the creature from its head. She would have laughed at the irony if she hadn't been busy sucking in lungfuls of air. Knowing what she did about these creatures, she was pretty sure she was still going to die; this time in a giant ball of fire. Sure enough, magical flames exploded to engulf them, causing the Templars to cry out as they shielded themselves. One of the Templars made sure to shield her as well.

It proved unnecessary much to her growing shock. The fire swirled around her but instead of inflicting agonizing burns the flames simply dissipated as they came into contact with her skin. The creature's magic not only failed to hurt her but she felt her reserves filling up. The deep ache she had been living with since waking up in the meadow was finally easing. She closed her eyes as she let the tingling waves renew her, she wasn't fully charged, but she felt a whole lot better.

A ragged sigh escaped her as she eyed the Templars nervously, but they didn't give any sign that they had noticed anything out of the ordinary. She soon realized none of them had taken damage from the flames either, due to their shields no doubt. She flinched when one removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. Another handed her a small jar of balm, indicating she should rub it into her wounds. She complied, deciding that playing the part of damsel was in her best interests at the moment. She didn't know what the balm was supposed to do, but at least it relieved the itching.

After they were done cleaning up, and then prepping the horses, she realized to her chagrin that they expected her to ride double with one of them. It wasn't like she had a reasonable excuse for not going with them, she was alone in the wilderness after all. She pretended to still be dizzy and weak as they helped her onto a horse in front of the elder Templar. She didn't know if she should be insulted or grateful that they chose to have her ride side saddle practically across the man's lap.

Then again maybe it was better considering she was still very naked under her newly acquired cloak, and she didn't want sores between her thighs. She needed the help, she had no riding experience, and was dreading falling off at any moment. They started the horses moving at what she thought was a faster pace than strictly necessary, but she had no idea what their destination was.

She examined her rescuers from beneath her down-turned lashes and tried to come up with some sort of plan. Diana learned that the Templar who kept arguing with everyone was named Byron. He seemed to have made up his mind that she was unwanted baggage. When he removed his helmet to clean it she saw that he had long stringy blonde hair, and a face full of pockmarks. From what she could deduce of their language he thought she was a hooker. The obvious looks he gave her made her skin crawl.

They may have saved her life, but what she knew of the Templar Order was making her very wary. What if this were all an act before they threw her into a deep dark dungeon in one of those Circle towers. What she remembered about Anders didn't leave her with warm fuzzy feelings for the Chantry goons. Byron was making that particular impression of the Order stick rather nicely. He was currently smirking at her and making crude gestures whenever the others couldn't see. She did her best to ignore him completely. Being in Thedas meant that she had more pressing problems that she needed to consider.

_Am I really doing this? Am I accepting that I've somehow hopped dimensions? Then those must have really been Halla. This is insanity. Thedas isn't real, its a story made by a bunch of really talented game designers. Of course , to most people on Earth, magic isn't real either._

She rubbed her face and huffed in frustration, nearly losing her balance. Luckily the solid arm of her new Templar friend kept her from pitching forward and right off the horse. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, as he had kept the same slightly angry looking scowl on his face for the last several hours. They'd given no indication that they had sensed any magic from her. Maybe they couldn't detect HER powers anymore than she could THEIRS. It made as much sense as anything else had; since she'd woken up in this nightmare.

Everything was going to be fine. She would just tackle everything one step at a time. There was nothing she could currently do, not in her weakened condition. So there was no sense in worrying about it. She was lost in thought, arguing with herself, as night fell. She almost had herself convinced she was still on Earth, when she glimpsed two very different moons in the sky, just peaking over the trees. Her breath caught in her throat. Earth didn't have two moons, and the smaller one's surface looked nothing like Luna.

_Shit. This can't be real. It may be fun to play or read about, but Thedas is currently FUBAR. The Blight, the failing Veil, a dogmatic religious matriarchy, crazy blighted Magisters, entrenched racism, racial extinction ... Morrigan's scary "bondage queen of darkness" mother ... oh and an Immortal, self destructive, Elvhen bent on ripping it all apart ... not that I don't sort of agree with him after that list of crazy. I ... this is too much. I can't ... Oh, Marcus ..._

The man she was riding with tapped her on the shoulder pulling her from her thoughts, which were quickly spiraling out of control, along with her emotions. Clenching her jaw, she tightly reined them in, she would not be one of those pathetic people that cried themselves into a solution. His expression softened as he looked at her, and she wondered what he saw there. Desperation? Maybe he saw her fraying sanity? Or it was probably the ever expanding bruise that used to be her neck. She needed a plan, and she needed one soon. She tried not to flinch when he removed a sizable leaf from her mussed hair.

He gestured to himself and simply said "Geoffery." He repeated this several times, then pointed to her. The start of any good attempt at communication; the exchange of names. "Geoffery" she croaked back to him. She looked up to the rising moons of Thedas. What better way to be known than by the moon she was already called after? Her voice barely above a whisper she gave a name,"Luna."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuman ut af pe ea, culice! Iu es en pleoh min hlafdia! :  
>  **Come out of the river, quickly! You are in peril milady.**
> 
> Mara lihhen pe hoer! Fargetan hiri, pe Agloec es neah. :  
>  **More like a whore! Forget her, the Abomination is near.**
> 
> Sio es openlice afray ondh al ana. Behabben lihhen pe deal af unsar Ordre sceolde!:  
>  **She is clearly afraid and alone. Behave as a member of our Order should!**
> 
> Lokon ut! Pe Agloec! :  
>  **LOOK OUT! The Abomination!"**
> 
> HWAT ES IU LUFLIC PING? :  
>  **WHAT ARE YOU LOVELY THING?**


	3. CHANTRY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna was exhausted. Geoffery had made sure she was given some sort of hard biscuit and several pulls from his wine skin the next morning. It had burned her damaged throat the entire way down. Though it had helped her nerves immensely and warmed her belly. All she wanted to do was pass out and wake up in a nice warm bed, but tired as she was; she couldn't fall asleep. They had ridden straight through the night, the steady bouncing of the horse making her increasingly uncomfortable. Her spine felt like a hippo had been tap dancing on it.

The Templars kept the horses going at a relentless pace. They had only dismounted twice, and that had been to relieve themselves and grab a quick bite to eat. It had also resulted in the attack of a pack of wolves the first time, and bandits the second. She no longer objected to her traveling companions' insistence on speed. The sun had gone down again some hours ago and she desperately wished they would stop and make camp. She could no longer feel her legs, and she relied more and more on Geoffery's strength to keep her seat.

Considering the way the rookie Templars kept glancing warily into the dark there must be a good reason for this torture. She didn't want to think about the possibility that there was another Abomination out there. Whatever the reason Geoffery seemed determined to reach their destination quickly. The steady clopping of the horses' hooves were beginning to give her a headache and she couldn't wait for them to stop.

_How long are they planning on going like this? What am I even doing in Thedas? Was I sent here to do something? Dammit, why can't I remember even coming here? Was I brought here alone? Yup, still insane, this whole mess is a giant pile of NOPE._

“ **Geoffery if we don't stop soon you're going to regret it. No seriously, I will not be held responsible for my actions**.” She knew he didn't understand a word she was saying, but she needed to hear some English. If only to drown out the sound of the horses. She wasn't surprised when he hushed her.

It was unnerving not being able to see much past the horses, but she was unwilling to risk a spell while literally in the arms of a Templar. The rugged hills had long since given way to rolling ones, and the trees were thinning out in favor of pasture and farmland. She didn't see any actual buildings, but the smell of manure was unmistakable. She was trying to puzzle out where she was. It couldn't be what Inquisition had shown of the Hinterlands, the land was too open. She thought it looked similar to what she had seen of Orlais, but she really hoped that wasn't the case. Then she caught a whiff of briny air, and the sound of steady waves. They must have been nearing a coast.

 _Ugh, even if they don't really have that annoying French accent, I really hope this isn't Orlais._ _Their monarchy is the worst bag of corruption ever conceived. Maybe I can take some time while I'm here and burn the Winter Palace to the ground ... with the nobles and assassins all locked inside._

Just as the sun began its slow rise over the horizon she heard her companions chattering excitedly. Opening her blood shot eyes she caught her first glimpse of civilization in days, complete with the expected church. Correction, a Chantry, not that she saw much difference really. The dirt path they had been using all night gave way to paving stones as they moved onto a larger road. Deep wagon ruts were carved into them from years of use. She shook her head in disbelief when the stench of dog hit her nose.

_Well, that answers my question about what country I'm in. Ugh, that is really strong, how can anyone breathe in this?_

As more of of the city came into view she realized it was much larger than she'd first thought, surrounded by a curtain wall complete with towers. Sure enough, she saw dog motifs carved into the stone archway of the main gate. It was a theme carried into the wooden beams of many of the buildings they passed. She didn't see any Mabari but she could hear baying in the distance, she was almost positive this was Fereldan. The cacophony of a busy port seemed deafening after the relative silence of the road. The buildings definitely looked like something out of a medieval tale, too bad stories seldom mention the choking filth.

At first she thought it might be Redcliffe, but the layout was all wrong compared to what she knew of it from the games. There was also a substantial amount of stonework, including carved bridges, and large fountains she didn't remember. 

_Wasn't Redcliffe next to a huge lake or something?_

Maybe this was Denerim, it had been a port city, as well as the capital. There was no way they'd rendered the whole thing in Origins, and that could account for the differences. To confirm it was Denerim she considered asking about a brothel named The Pearl, but could think of no way to do so that did not end in horrific embarrassment. If she could even successfully convey that in mime.

_There's an image ..._

_It could still be Redcliffe, you don't know where in the timeline you are, or if the game portrayal was even accurate. What if everything I know is wrong? I mean, yes these are Templars, and yes that was an Abomination, but how accurate is what I know? What's "Canon" here for lack of a better word? Wait, lakes don't smell like salt genius. I need to figure out where I am, and what year it is. Shit, I bet I can't read anything here. So much for the advantage of being multilingual. I doubt Korean will be useful here._

After the horses were stabled, Geoffery shielded her from the attention of some over eager locals and ushered her towards the Chantry. They reached for her long hair, and tried to touch the corners of her slanted eyes. She clutched the cloak around herself tighter, afraid someone would snatch it off her. She didn't mind being naked, but she wasn't stupid, one leering Templar was enough to handle right now.

It was unnerving to see the Chantry symbols she'd had fun drawing in sketch pads, and on her tablet, exhibited everywhere. There were also banners displaying some sort of Heraldry emblazoned with a large Bear. She was surprised to see there really was a Chanters Board and confirmed she couldn't read it.

Dragon Age had been her favorite video game series. She had loved the stories, the art, the music, and had even ventured reading fan fiction. Flynn would laugh when she would binge play every game, then read all the books she owned in the series in her free time. She had taken every opportunity to learn about the world of Thedas, gleaning what she could as an artist, and musician. That didn't mean she retained it all. The bear emblem was familiar, but she couldn't place it.

What if she had arrived centuries before the time frame she was familiar with; perhaps it would be worse if she had arrived just before the Fereldan Blight? She was not foolish enough to think she would be unphazed by darkspawn. She had some serious zombie fear, and they were basically zombies with weapons and magic. Then there was the unfortunate truth that actual undead existed here as well. There were simply too many unknowns, and she felt like there was some invisible deadline looming over her.

_I need to learn their language. Fuck. It took me over a year and a half to learn Latin, mostly, and I was only learning just enough to pass the class. Now I have to become fluent in this tongue if I hope to survive. Okay._

_Plan A: Learn Common, Where and when I am, then make more plan A._  
_Plan B: Fight my way through Templars, and hope for the best, probably die._  
_Plan C: Forget everything, become a pirate. Drink copious amounts of rum._

The Chantry nun that Geoffery introduced as Sarin clucked at her impatiently, then spouted a chain of words so quickly she wasn't sure it had been coherent speech. The only thing she had been able to recognize had been Geoffery's name. After that she was run ragged between being fed, finding clothing, and being questioned. She was seriously beginning to wonder if the Sister had another setting.

She hurried Luna through everything including bathing. Thankfully she was left to attend to that on her own with a block of rough soap and a small wash tub. She had used something similar as a child, though it could be very harsh on skin and didn't make bubbles as expensive soaps did. It was unscented which suited her just fine, the last thing she needed was to smell like a flower. The plain homespun dress they gave her to wear left her wrinkling her nose in distaste.

_I hate dresses. Who decided women should wear easy access clothing, and that it's somehow more modest? Oh well, beggars, gift horses, and all that jazz._

She had been looking forward to taking a potion, but they never gave her one, maybe they weren't as common as the games had made them out to be. Then again she wasn't exactly able to pay for it. She also discovered that humans were universally much taller than she was, they all seemed to be over 6 foot. Their auras were also chaotic, flashing with any change in their emotions.

Elven auras were just the opposite, soothing, with change coming slowly. It was as if she were watching one of those color shifting mood lights. Luna had a feeling she'd be spending more time with the elves if they'd let her. She had yet to meet a dwarf, they didn't seem to frequent the Chantry. She was generally able to read people easily, the only exception seemed to be the Templars. Their training must have something to do with that, or maybe it was the Lyrium.

The bruises on her neck took almost a week to heal. During that time different members of the Chantry were sent to speak different languages at her. At her, because they rarely gave her time enough to respond. It left everyone involved feeling frustrated, and hand gestures and grunting could only get them so far.

The humans tended to talk slower and louder around her, which was hilarious, because she wasn't deaf and the speed they were talking at wouldn't help her to suddenly just know the new words. Still she spent the time learning their words for little things. "No **"** was a particular new favorite of hers, it was easy to remember because " _ **Neh**_ **"** was also Korean for yes. She appreciated the irony. Pretending not to understand them, especially if the questions leaned towards her origins, she muddled her way through her interrogations.

The Chantry seemed to settle with the idea that she was simply slow or damaged, and had her sweeping the floors more often than not. The first few days of getting used to her new name didn't help matters. Seeing as they fed her twice a day and gave her a mat to sleep on she didn't complain. Though the amount of work they seemed to expect in return for a little soup seemed closer to slave wages.

A nice elven girl with a name too long for her to remember took charge of her; she simply called her Tali for short. Tali accepted the shortening of her name with good humor, probably because Luna was supposedly daft. Though she had seemed seriously upset at her when Geoffery began to use the nickname as well.

She had beautiful brown hair, and her crystal blue eyes were fascinatingly large, but it bothered Luna that Tali was so thin. She had always assumed while playing the games, that elves were simply built as a species to be willowy. While this was true to an extent, many elves here were also severely malnourished. She'd seen enough charity commercials to recognize the signs. It reminded her of fashion models back home, though she doubted this was a choice the elves were making.

Tali taking responsibility for her also meant that the clergy started largely ignoring her. They left her care in the elf's hands, only stopping by the servants quarters to give her a menial task. A lot of menial tasks, she was getting a serious work out. She was actually concerned that if she didn't find another source of food she'd end up as thin as an elf.

Byron harassed her whenever he was assigned duties anywhere in her vicinity. She avoided him as much as possible, but considering she was living in the Chantry it was nearly impossible. It hadn't gone much beyond him grabbing her ass, for which she'd soundly slapped him, but it kept her on edge. The bastard had laughed when she'd hit him, and she began imagining creative ways to unman him. He was also very careful that nobody ever saw his crude behavior, especially Geoffery.

Despite everything Luna began to adjust to her new life, but then she started doing something that was very uncharacteristic of her. She was avoiding sleep whenever possible, staying awake for 36 hours in a stretch. When she had been at home she loved to sleep. Those closest to her had always complained that she was impossible to wake. Yet in Thedas, she wasn't sleeping as deeply, and she was plagued by dreams she couldn't control. The most disturbing of these involved her husband and son. They weren't nightmarish, they were more likely to portray some of the happiest memories she had. That just made them more painful and she'd woken up near tears more than once.

She was used to having dreams that took her to fantastical landscapes, and had even dreamt of Thedas before. Her dreams on Earth had been vivid, if surreal, with sounds, tastes and sensations not available when waking. She was usually a lucid dreamer, having full control, sometimes even rewinding and repeating a portion of a dream if it hadn't gone as she liked. Her time asleep used to be spent stretching her imagination to its limits, where symphonies echoed on a whim, and time had no meaning.

There had been occasions where she'd visited alien libraries, spending weeks reading ancient manuscripts. Sometimes she had awoken with the surety that she'd spent the last several years fighting in some great astral army, only to have the memory dim the longer she was awake. Of course there were also the silly dreams where she was playing Mario Cart.

She was almost positive that she wasn't visiting the Fade. She had yet to see anything while she was asleep resembling any of the portrayals from the stories. Of course the games could just be seriously wrong. More than that though, her dreams had become flat, lifeless, and quite frankly, boring. Nothing truly happened in them except to repeat what she had already experienced. This scared her as some nights, she didn't dream at all. Instead she would go to sleep then wake suddenly, only to discover the entire night had passed.

Now when she was awake, she did her best to distract herself from her growing insomnia. She began helping the other servants with their duties mostly as a way to learn from them. She noted with disgust that most of the servants were elven, only those in charge seemed to be human. At least the servants didn't seem to be at all racist. Tali encouraged her as if she were a small child. She attributed this to her Asian heritage, which made her appear younger, and her smaller stature. It was still preferable to the way the Chantry nuns treated her.

It was easier for her to pick up on the cadence of their language with the servants. They spoke casually, joked, laughed and seemed completely ... normal. The elves were pleasantly surprised when she showed an aptitude for mending, and baffled the first time she showed Tali how to knit a scarf with some makeshift needles. Apparently knitting was not something taught here, maybe they used it farther south? She mimed that it was for when it was cold and they seemed extremely thrilled making her teach them all. In return they taught her the small basic things that anyone growing up in Thedas would have learned as a matter of course.

So much was taken for granted in daily life here; how currency worked, how to find the privy, what elf root looked like, the fair price for a loaf of bread, or where and when to empty a chamber pot. Chamber pots were fortunately something she was already familiar with, her mother's side of the family still used them. She learned how they did the laundry, how meals were served, and what they were called. Though she would never, ever, willingly eat pickled fish. Even her love of Kimchee hadn't prepared her for the stench.

She would go so far as to call Tali a friend, especially when she took the time to show her how to use foot wraps when they saw she was always barefoot. They were surprisingly comfortable, and easy to clean. The next day she had used them to make a rope and shimmied out a window before Geoffery caught up to her and forced her to return to the Chantry. He had taken a great deal of time and arm waving to convince her to stay on the grounds. Soon after the elf had taken to calling her, " _ **Pretti cildre**_ " or simply " _ **Pretti**_ " whenever they were together. It sounded like an endearment, so she didn't argue. The glint in the woman's eye, and the smirk she wore, whenever she said it had her suspicious though.

As she spent more time with them, she began to realize just how right Solas had been about servants having their own little society. Servants were socially invisible, as long as they did their job well enough. They worked like the cogs in a machine, one that a feudal society couldn't function without. They were also taken for granted and it was confirmed, to her horror, that many servants were only a breath away from starving. Especially if they were elves.

Tali took her to market in the Alienage a few times and she saw just how bad it could be. If they had the wrong employer, they were only slightly better off than slaves. The self employed elves seemed almost as bad off, barely scraping by since their customers had little money to spend. The most disturbing part for her, were the children, if they could be called that. There was no rough housing, no laughter, they were too busy running stalls of their own. It dawned on her that if she really were mentally challenged, she would spend her entire life as an unpaid drudge, and it would be seen as charity. In practice it was closer to exploitation.

What she witnessed of the inner workings of the Chantry didn't really change her already bad opinion of them. In fact, it mostly reinforced her disdain of organized religion. While she was lucky to eat thin broth and crusty old bread, with the occasional treat of overly aged cheese, she saw that several of the Sisters and Brothers were rather on the paunchy side. All this while surrounded by the beautifully gilded walls whose decorations were costly enough to probably feed the entire city for a year. Some things it seemed, were the same no matter what world you were on.

The Mother in charge of this particular branch of the Chantry also treated the few elves that came to them for help rather badly. She had seen her lord it over the unfortunate elves in a way that had no language barrier. They usually took the abuse in stride, beaten down by hundreds of years of brutal subjugation. To them this was simply the way the world worked. She may have lived on the edge of modern society, but Luna was born and raised as an American. Consequently she had a different reaction to the abuses she was witnessing. She rebelled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neh :  
>  **No**
> 
> Pretti cildre :  
>  **Trickster child**


	4. MISCHIEF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna ground her teeth together as yet another person yelled at Toman for something he hadn't done. This was the third person today and she was nearly at her limit. She was scrubbing a hallway floor and glared at the merchant as he called him a knife-ear yet again. It wasn't just the slur, it was the complete disdain he said it with. What bothered her the most was his belief that not only was he superior to Toman, but that it was only natural for him to treat him so poorly. Fed up she hoisted her bucket of dirty water and purposefully stalked toward the oblivious human.

Toman's eyes widened slightly at the malicious grin overtaking Luna's face as she approached. It was a shame that the long red carpeting in the Chantry had a tendency to rumple. Fumbling the bucket as she feigned tripping, she emptied the contents of the pail all over the unsuspecting man. There was a pause in all activity in the area, as the man stared at her in utter disbelief. When his brain finally caught up with what had occurred, he sputtered and raged at her. As she couldn't completely understand him, Luna simply went about picking up her cleaning implements and ignored him completely.

Sister Sarin grabbed her by the ear and she obligingly made a hiss as though in great pain. It really did hurt, just not as much as she made it appear. Why give the Sister any excuse to meet out what she felt was a more appropriate punishment? She was sure from the Sister's tone that she was receiving a sermon as well as a lecture. She had simply blinked at the woman and given her a vacant stare until the woman gave up and had Toman take her back to Tali.  He had thanked her later that night before he headed home to the Alienage. Luna had winked at him and it was never brought up again.

Luna did nothing too large, and nothing traceable, just small acts of sabotage designed to frustrate and annoy. Luna also made sure to share any food that 'accidentally fell off' the overfull platters, sent to guests and Clergy, with her fellow servants. She had no interest in protein deficiency. They were wary at first, afraid the Head cook would catch on. When no sign of punishment came they gladly shared in her ill-gotten bounty. Tali sewed handkerchiefs for them to store any extra bits they wanted to take home to their families. Besides, they could always blame it on her being a half-wit. Though Tali had given her a knowing look on more than one occasion.

Luna was intimately familiar with racism. Suffering from the sometimes brutally casual nature of it, as well as the more blatantly hate fueled violence. Still, she'd been luckier than some. She hadn't even realized what a racial slur was until she was in 3rd Grade. Almond shaped eyes and darker sun-kissed skin had set her apart from all the other children. It had been a shock when the teacher began tormenting her on a daily basis. She had responded to the mistreatment by continuing to outperform the entire class, in the hopes of placating the woman that hated her.

She didn't understand until she was much older that it hadn't been her fault, that she wasn't bad, or doing something wrong. It never occurred to her to complain to her parents. Her father's solution to racism was to pretend that it didn't exist. As he had never encountered it directed at himself, no one could possibly suffer from it. Her mother would have simply told her that teachers were always right, and children were always wrong. So sit down, shut up, and conform. Hearing the elves called knife-ear angered her in a way she couldn't properly describe. Though she had an equally negative reaction to the word Shem. Or any racial slur really.

Mother Madeline's bad attitude extended, to a lesser degree, to the human servants as well, herself included. Apparently the clergy woman was simply a horrible person. Though, Tali informed her, the Mother seemed to have taken a particular dislike to Luna. She wasn't really surprised there were rumors about her, she had arrived at the Chantry in the buff after all.

Trying to gossip while using a combination of hand gestures, charades, and the smattering of common she had learned, was comical. She was absolutely certain she looked like a mad woman, but it worked. According to Tali everyone was certain that her height proved she was a either dwarf or elf blooded. The Mother had a very low opinion of half-breeds from what she could tell. No wonder she kept getting the shit jobs, sometimes literally. She really hated chamber pots.

It was taking every bit of her self control not to simply find the Mother alone and punch her in the face. Instead she sated her hunger for revenge by sneaking rats in the woman's bed. It was small, and petty, and completely worth it. Luna took perverse delight in the ear piercing screeches emanating from the opulent rooms that evening.

Madeline earned a permanent place on her shit list a week later when she saw her backhand a child, for tugging on her pristine robes with dirty hands. She had looked properly scandalized when she saw she was being watched, until she realized who had witnessed the crack in her priestly facade. The woman made a half-hearted show of soothing the sobbing boy and sending him home with a coin.

During the early morning Chant, with Tali keeping watch, Luna slipped quietly into the Mother's personal chambers. Taking the robes that the boy had dirtied the previous day, she sought the best way to destroy them without getting caught. Settling on a plan, she tore the robe into strips, then tied them together, to form a makeshift rope.

Tying one end of this to the bedpost she let the remainder hang out of the window, as if someone had escaped via that route. Turning back to the room she sought something to steal, to make it look as though THAT had been the intruder's goal. Finding a chest, she quickly picked the lock, surprised at how easy it was. Never had she been so grateful, that her son had taken the time to teach her how to pick basic locks, and Thedosian locks were as basic as they came.

_Seriously you can stick a whole finger into this lock. I could pick this with an Allen wrench._

Finding the chest full of valuables, including jewelry, she decided to only take coins. They would be easier to exchange for goods, and far harder to trace, than medallions of rank. Placing the coins in the pouch beneath her shirt, she left the chest open to draw attention to it, and rejoined Tali in the hall.

“What _ **habben**_ you _**GEDON?**_ ” Tali hissed suspiciously. Her meaning was easy enough to infer.

“Tali no can lie, if not know.”

“This is no _**getimian**_ _**furi**_ your tricks!”

Luna's expression turned serious, losing all trace of mirth, “Not tricks. Justice. Small justice. But still justice.” Tali looked her in the eyes as if seeing her for the first time. A moment later Tali nodded, accepting Luna's explanation.

On their next trip out of the Chantry on errands, with the residents of the Alienage busy with their daily labors, Luna snuck through the narrow back alleys. Recalling older stories about St. Nicolas from Earth, she went about slipping a few coins under each front door.

The next day Tali informed her that many of the residents of the Alienage returned home, exhausted from the day's work, to find the coins waiting for them. She had her arms crossed and narrowed her eyes the entire time she relayed the news. After conferring with their neighbors and finding that it was widespread they decided to spend the money as quickly as possible so as not to be caught with it, and accused of theft. As a result many families who spent much of their lives hungry were able to fill their pantries for the first time.

A few days later when word reached the Chantry of this mysterious windfall, they took advantage of the situation. That day the Chantry made a public announcement that they were responsible for distributing the coins, and that they had done so by the will of Andraste. In this fashion they earned the good will of the masses, while assuring they did not look weak. This allowed them to maintain face publicly, while still leaving the Mother to take the blame behind closed doors.

_Well that was ... an unintended side effect. I mean, the money WAS the Mothers, so TECHNICALLY I guess they did have a hand in it. At least she lost her prissy robes and is under scrutiny now. Plus I got to feed a lot of hungry people. Annnnnnnd, I totally got away with it!_

Geoffery began visiting her often, at first she was pretty sure he was suspicious of her, but lately he'd taken to bringing her the odd sweet or pastry. He didn't seem to think she was "touched in the head" as most of the Chantry sisters had concluded. Instead he took the time to teach her new words. Along with what the servants were teaching her she now knew how to name most of the basic necessities, ask for directions, and several new swears.

Needless to say progress was slow. She knew a charm to help with that, but she still wasn't sure the Templars weren't spying on her to see if she were a mage. Geoffery never treated her like a child, then again, he'd seen full frontal nudity proving she wasn't. He seemed like a decent enough guy, but she couldn't stop seeing him as a threat when he always wore the uniform. His presence in her life also seemed to have chased Byron from the vicinity so she really wasn't complaining.

She asked him why he helped her so much and was very surprised by what she understood of his answer. Geoffery claimed that he had seen too much "bad stuff" in his time as a Templar. He probably would have used better descriptive words if she actually knew any. Then again, maybe not, he seemed to be embarrassed talking about himself. Joining had never been his choice. He had been an orphan raised by the Chantry and had never been taught a trade. He felt that if he could help just one person, then it would mean he had at least done one good thing in his life.

_Well, that makes me feel like a horrible person. Ugh, why can't the world just be black and white, good vs. evil, right vs. wrong. Who knew I'd be friends with a Templar. Well, until he finds out he's harboring an 'evil scum sucking Mage' from another dimension._

She had also taken to sneaking into the Chantry library in search of a map or anything familiar. She wasn't sleeping so she may as well do something useful with her time. They didn't guard the books or anything, but she liked the autonomy she got from the Sisters underestimating her. The last thing she wanted was for them to have a reason to kick her out before she was truly ready to leave.

So she kept the thieving to a minimum, and only from those that showed they deserved it. She made sure a portion always went to the most impoverished of the elves, and ensured it never seemed like she could have been the thief. She silently thanked the writers of every cop show and murder mystery she'd ever known.

One day while perusing yet another section and coming up empty, Geoffery tapped her on the shoulder with a wry grin. She smacked him on the arm and cursed at him in several different languages as her heart calmed down. He may not have known exactly what a 'Baboon's ass crack' was, but she was certain he understood the sentiment. Once she was able to convey what she was looking for; he helped her to find a large map of Fereldan.

"Why _ **neid**_ you _**reita**_ to journey away?" he asked while helping her to roll out the map.

"Not journey away _**…**_ know where _ **...**_ am I?" she replied in broken Common. " **Now, where the fuck am I**?" She needed to know EXACTLY where in Fereldan she was. The WHEN would be helpful too.

He nodded and helped her place several books to hold down the curling corners of the map. While he explained the markings on the map to her she found out she was living in a city called Amaranthine, not Denerim as she'd thought. Of course she felt silly finally recognizing the bear emblem. He also informed her the current ruler was Queen Anora, who had succeeded her husband King Cailan.

She listened attentively, encouraging him to tell her more, though she recognized the tale immediately. He told her about the Blight and how the Wardens had saved Fereldan and helped Anora regain her throne from her traitorous father Loghain. She'd only recently been coronated. She couldn't hide the disappointment or disgust on her face at this news, but he didn't comment on it. 9:34 Dragon. She had a date, or rather, she was pretty sure that was what he'd told her. Geoffery had bid her goodnight considerably more cheerful after story-time.

_Neuuhhh ... Anora? What happened to Alistair??? I mean, yay I'm in Fereldan, and I recognize the name of the current ruler. Loghain makes three confirmed details that turned out to actually exist. So I guess that's a win? My knowledge seems to be accurate. But ... ANORA!? Gods, what if I've landed in the worst possible world-state? And how recent is recent? A month? A year? I'm not learning this language fast enough, at this rate I'll be a sweeping floors after the Inquisition has disbanded. It's time to risk casting again._

Sigils needed to be placed near whatever you intended it to effect. She also didn't know very many where long term use didn't result in something exploding. The last time she'd tried making a Ring of Warmth she'd been picking hematite shards out of her skin for hours. She only needed to visualize and cast through them for spells of short duration, but she wanted this one to last as long as possible. It had the unfortunate side effect of causing migraines with long term use, but what choice did she have?

Making sure she was alone she tested the **Memory Charm** placing the intricate Sigil discreetly under her braid. The resulting mark didn't glow, but had a noticeable silver sheen when light touched it. Better to keep it out of sight. She was pleasantly surprised to find the power use was negligible, though she still fought a bout of dizziness. Now it was simply a matter of testing how long it lasted while taking advantage of the effect. She reached her quarters later than normal and wasn't surprised the other servants were fast asleep.

Quietly she washed up at the basin, then sat cross legged on her thin pallet. She tested her magic reserves, as she did every night. At home there would have been an increase as she went about her day, requiring her to ground out the excess energy in order to sleep. Here, she only lost energy when she cast, and she didn't seem to absorb anything ambiently. Having been here for well over a month she was coming to accept the change.

Her dreams had become more infrequent the longer she was in Thedas. While this made for more restful sleep, it had her reeling at the possibilities. Would her dreams completely stop? Would her other abilities from Earth vanish just as easily? How would she defend herself in a world so fraught with violence without her spells? She doubted she'd ever be content to simply stay a servant, or take up a career in baking. Not if she was ever going to find answers.

_Okay I officially think too much.. I'm becoming a paranoid, sleep deprived wreck, and what if scenarios are not going to help me rest. Arrgh, I just wish the dreams I DID have weren't so damned tedious. My last dream was about sweeping, dusting, and more sweeping._

This also seemed to confirm that she had no connection to the Fade. This was good news since that meant she was not in danger of being possessed by demons. It was also disappointing as she had enjoyed astral projection while on Earth, and she wouldn't have minded learning more from the Spirits of Thedas. It was also a let down that here she was; in a world full of magic that she couldn't touch.

Her hopes of ever finding her son dwindled daily. The last she remembered, they had been together, shopping for a new burner phone ... or had they been building the new barn? It was frustrating, her memories of events were jumbled, everything clear until the evening in question. What were the chances of two of them falling into a fictional universe. The alternative made her feel sick, but at least at home, Flynn would be safe with the others.

As the many days, then weeks, passed; her vain hope that she was pulling off some kind of 'Inception' trick and still really dreaming, died. This world was simply too visceral, the food was bland, the dirt under her nails too real, her back ached, and the less said about the privy the better. What she knew for sure, was that she wouldn't get her answers if she stayed here. When she finally passed into sleep, she was met with only darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> habben : **have**  
>  GEDON : **DONE**  
>  getimian : **time**  
>  furi : **for**  
>  neid : **need**  
>  reita : **roads**  
> 


	5. BROKEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.** **  
> **  
> Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Sometime later Geoffery found her angrily scribbling with a piece of charcoal in a thick notebook she'd constructed out of spare bits the Sisters regularly threw away. She was sitting alone on her sleeping pallet, mumbling to herself. Her hair was unkempt, braids loose, errant strands clinging to her shoulders and face. It probably made her seem more crazed, but the Chantry sisters weren't likely to change that opinion anyway. After the day she'd endured she was rethinking her policy of small revenge.

She had spent the majority of her day cleaning up messes some Noble brat had deliberately made while his father spoke to Mother Madeline. It didn't help that the aforementioned brat was a fully grown adult. She never caught his name, but in her head she thought of him as Lord Asshat, as she found that title appropriate. Her only consolation was that Sister Sarin had been forced to stay with her the entire time.

_You are sooooo fucking lucky I don't work in the kitchens you little shit._

If she'd been the parent of such an insufferable toad she'd have tanned his hide and left him scrubbing privies for a year regardless of his age. He thought it unbearably funny to have the half-wit cleaning 'accidental' spills of wine and generally making a nuisance of himself. He wasn't even decent enough to hide what he was doing, after all what could she do about it? The whining tone he took when speaking to the Chantry Sisters had almost been enough to make her want to stab her own eyes out.

_This is my life now. Yup, I'm going to find a nice big building, lock the Nobles away, then invent napalm. I bet I could make something pretty close. Better yet, thermite AND napalm. I miss Instructables … and Youtube … and hot showers … Aaarrgghhhh._

The book Geoffery found her with was made with several different colors of leather. The pages were uneven, and it wasn't pretty, but it was hers. Most of the parchment was stained, or water damaged, but she'd done a fair job salvaging it. She thought the patchwork cover made it look interesting, and she was less likely to lose it this way. She'd been filling it for weeks.

Images of Marcus, and their son filled the first quarter of the book, she didn't want to forget what they looked like. Her husband's shoulder length wavy hair and piercing eyes peaked at her from the pages. At home she'd had photographs, both physical and digital everywhere. She was already afraid of forgetting the little things, so she wrote them down, in English of course. She was still barely literate when trying to decipher Common. She could do it, but she was extremely slow.

_The day Flynn discovered that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich fits perfectly into a VCR, and that the eject button was somewhat less than helpful, is now recorded for posterity. Future historians will marvel. What was a VCR they'll ask ... oh, well ... it must have been used for "religious purposes." Yeah right, when I die, there will be no one to decipher this journal, and it'll probably be forgotten._

Geoffery had been very surprised at her ability to write, but he seemed equally impressed by her artwork. He didn't ask who she was sketching, which she was grateful for. He did, however, seem very interested in the English lettering. She also noted that he was taking a more formal tone when speaking to her. It was strange considering how relaxed he usually was around her. Mostly ignoring his presence, she filled page after page, fighting her growing despair.

_Peasants didn't read or write in the dark ages. It could be the same here. Oh well, its too late now._

She had buried herself in the details of Thedas while still on Earth. She could relate to the story, and they seemed to have it so much worse than she did. The irony of her current situation was not lost on her.

'The Shroud' was full of Normals, they had no weird abilities to counter, and were a completely unsanctioned movement. Of course the flip side was the government wouldn't protect a group of people they didn't acknowledge even existed. Still, the lack of Abominations and fully manifested demons had made her life seem so much more simple. It had been an excellent way to lose herself, to hide from her grief.

_If I'm honest I'm still hiding from it. No ... Not thinking about it._

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair and turned her thoughts away from the pain. Healthy emotional state be damned. She knew it was coming. Keeping herself from feeling anything had been easy at first. Between learning a new language, the constant fear of being discovered, and trying to appear harmless; there had been plenty of distractions. She'd have joined the Templars in the training yard to work out the stress, but had a feeling that wouldn't go over very well. Being unable to workout was a small sacrifice for continued anonymity. So instead she hid behind her new identity with pranks and sarcasm. She didn't want to feel, not really, at least nothing meaningful.

That's why she had only made an effort to befriend Tali and Geoffery. Well, more like THEY made the effort to befriend HER. Who was keeping track really. She'd never been good at letting people in, it was simpler to dislike everyone, on principle. Then there was no surprise when they behaved poorly, she'd already expected it. Writing made her think, she didn't want to think, but time was working against her. Pretending to be a robot wouldn't work forever, and stopping the work in her notebook wasn't an option.

_Why am I still here? Why don't I just leave? Its not like its safe, and I wouldn't call it a 'good' life either. Dammit , what the fuck am I even DOING here?!_

When she glanced up from her work she noticed he was looking at her with an expression she couldn't read. It unnerved her that he could hide what he was thinking from her, that his aura never flickered with his emotions. Unwilling to look too deeply at that, she started writing in the section she'd devoted to song lyrics and poetry.

Her control was fraying, and she must have let some of her distress through her facade, because Geoffery sat next to her looking worried. She finally lost the battle against her tears while transcribing a poem her husband had written to her; in fact the last thing he had ever written to her. It had been some time before she realized, that with that poem, he had been saying goodbye.

**I dance in shrinking circles**  
**Vast social ring of one**  
**My heart a fading ember**  
**That scarcely knew the sun**  


**I cast back to my memory**  
**For one I long since knew**  
**And live again in dusty vault**  
**That distant past to view**  


**The cost I pay so delving**  
**Priceless beyond compare**  
**The hint of breath upon my cheek**  
**The touch of raven hair**  


**Though my love and I do dance**  
**In shrinking circles still**  
**In arms and hearts forever**  
**In love they cannot kill**  


It wasn't fair, she could only recall four of the stanzas. It had taken days for the charm to help her to remember even that. The poem had been framed, and placed on her bed-stand. Another copy had been folded and placed inside a locket that she never removed. There had been no need to memorize it, it was always with her. Now his words were lost forever.

The longer she was here, the more she had tried to write. It was becoming an obsession, desperately trying to preserve not only her life, but pieces of her entire civilization. This was the first time she'd cried since awakening in Thedas, and once she started, she couldn't stop. Geoffery didn't say anything, just held her as she cried herself sick. He was clearly embarrassed, clumsily stroking her hair. She obligingly ruined his shirt.

"Hush _**smoel fugal**_. What's wrong? How can I help?" He looked completely out of his depth. Casting glances around the room looking for some sort of escape.

"I lose my **whole** family," she choked out between sobs.

"The man you keep drawing?" This brought on a fresh wave of hysterical sobbing and ended Geoffery's attempts at speaking. Instead he made shushing sounds, the kind she had heard him use on horses. She probably would have found it hilarious if she weren't too busy wailing.

Luna felt as though her entire world were crumbling, and technically it had. She had lost her family, her way of life, and had no guarantee of ever retrieving them. All she had were half baked plans based on the flimsy chance that she had knowledge of Thedas' future. How to use that knowledge, she was still uncertain about, and she was running out of time.

Ever since she had woken in that field, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was supposed to be DOING something. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate. She could not accept the possibility that she had crossed dimensions in a freak accident. People didn't just fall into another Realm for no reason. If the Gods had sent her here it must have been to accomplish something. How was she supposed to accomplish a task without knowing what it might be?

_Between the Blight, Corypheus, and the Dread Wolf? Thedas is ripping itself apart, if they expected anything of me ... NO, I need to find a way home to my son._

She had always found it dubious that characters who fell into Thedas seemed to have perfect recall. Yet here she was, imperfect, lonely, and slowly drowning beneath the weight of it all. Sleep deprivation combined with the near constant migraine from maintaining the memory spell wasn't helping. She knew she was becoming irrational, and feared what might happen if her mind buckled under the strain.

At some point Geoffery had traded places with Tali, who took the opportunity to brush and braid her thick hair. The elven woman was patient, never scolding, or talking down to her. She simply held her, rocking back and forth. Her aura was serene, calm hues radiating warmth. “Don't bury yourself in grief _**Pretti**_. You are not alone.”

_There isn't enough parchment in Thedas for everything I want to ... no that I NEED to remember. How can I hope to preserve Shakespeare, Dickens, or Tolkien when all I remember precisely is the Dr. Pepper jingle. Stories from a thousand nations, lessons from centuries of risen and fallen empires ..._

_Rome wasn't built in a day ... the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step ... the pen is mightier than the sword ... "The Dark Side" is quicker, easier, more seductive ... this is my CULTURE._

Growing up as the internet came into its potential, and fueled by a thirst to know everything, Luna had a pool of knowledge most of the people of Thedas had no hope of matching. Being on the run had changed that very little, and by the time she'd appeared in Thedas anyone could buy a burner phone with internet access. Her people took for granted how steeped they were in information. All that stood between a question and an answer was the desire to know, and a WiFi connection. Luna loved to learn, and it showed. She was fascinated by art, music, history, legend, science, magic and technology. "How" and "Why" had always been a driving force in her life.

Living in the forest didn't mean giving up the internet, satellites were a miracle in her opinion. Instant access to information also had meant they were constantly learning simply through exposure. It was amazing what you could learn on YouTube, and she had taken a lot of time to learn it. She had also been exposed to quite a bit of pop culture. Not that all the people of Earth were enlightened, Twitter proved that on a daily basis. There were some things on the internet that could NEVER be unseen. She'd avoided those as much as possible.

_I have only one human lifetime, and what I've lost, is incalculable. I can't comprehend what must have vanished when the Veil destroyed Arlathan. At least Earth still probably exists ... maybe._

When she was done crying she fled the servant quarters to find somewhere secluded. Tonight it was the stables, the horses didn't mind, and she appreciated the smell of horse over dog. Carefully she removed a smaller pocket sized book that she kept on her person at all times, hidden beneath her shirt. It had taken a great deal more patience than she thought she was capable of to sew the leather harness for it. To say she was paranoid about it would be an understatement.

It was dedicated to everything she knew about the Dragon Age Universe complete with sketches of characters, iconic places, and noteworthy emblems and heraldry. Anything she remembered, whether it seemed insignificant or not, was written down, in chronological order. The timeline wasn't exact, she had never been good with dates, and Thedas' calendar was no exception. Confirmed world-state she marked with a check, it was how she kept everything straight. She had even started a beastiary complete with demon weaknesses and strengths.

The charm was helping her to flesh out the details, as well as helping her retain new words. She'd only needed to renew it twice, each attempt using less power than the time before. Practice, it seemed, was making her more efficient. Yet, she still had no reliable way to recharge. Lyrium was out of the question, she had no interest in drinking Titan blood. She also had no idea if she was susceptible to becoming addicted to it.

She didn't remember any mention of Mages becoming reliant on the potions, only Templars, but in the games you quaffed them like water. She had no idea how the mechanics behaved in reality. Nor was she sure her biology would even react to it well, she wasn't a contemporary mage after all. Not that someone living in her station had a prayer of ever seeing a drop, she wasn't even sure Templars using Lyrium was common knowledge.

Luna was very careful that no one ever saw her working in this particular journal. She knew it was dangerous for her to write about it, let alone include a picture guide. English seemed to share a lot of traits with Common with similar grammatical structure. So she wrote in her secret book in a Language she was SURE no one in Thedas was equipped to translate. Korean. Her mother's tongue, with its Asian grammar and strange mishmash of entire phrases as single words, was even more foreign than Elvhen. She also wrote it traditionally, top to bottom, which would further confuse anyone who found the book.

_Just a few more weeks, that's all I need. I'll definitely leave in a few more weeks. By then I'll know more Common, and I'll head to Denerim._

When she returned later that night, Tali had gone to sleep hours before. So she curled herself under her threadbare blanket, fighting the throbbing headache she still had from her earlier breakdown. It wasn't until she was at the very edge of sleep that she realized something. While brushing her hair Tali had been given a clear view of the silvery Sigil at the nape of her neck.

_Well, shit._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smoel fugal : **little bird**
> 
> pretti : **trickster**
> 
> The included poem is an Original Work.


	6. BESERK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm weak. I posted early. I couldn't wait! This will be a much longer chapter than I usually post. I really couldn't bring myself to cut anything out. Hope you guys like it!  
> 
> 
> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
>  Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

For the next several weeks they were busy preparing for some sort of large festival or gathering. It was getting much colder outside, so it wasn't a harvest festival. It may have been the one dedicated to one of the moons. Luna couldn't remember which one, and Tali had to keep correcting her. She was kept out of the heavy preparations for the most part, earning the privilege of extra duties as more qualified servants were drafted for the heavy work. This afforded her access to areas of the Chantry she had never seen before, but she never wanted to scrub another floor again.

Luna spent that time walking on eggshells around her friend. She had chosen to renew the memory spell as it suddenly disappearing would be more damning. However she now found herself hesitant around Tali. The elf had finally commented on the Sigil, calling it an " _ **ege trape**_ tattoo" A tattoo made sense, Luna had not bothered correcting her. She had been in a silent panic until she was able to ask Geoffery what exactly an 'egg trap' was. He'd laughed at her horribly mangled pronunciation but it turned out to mean eye catching. It wasn't like the elf to be cryptic but her manner had been extremely confusing. She still wasn't sure if it had been a compliment or if the woman had been warning her.

Luna was lost in thought while sweeping out one of the many storerooms in a darkened portion of the Chantry, when she was interrupted by Byron. He didn't say anything, just pushed her against a wall hard enough for her head to bounce and shoved his tongue in her mouth. One of his hands grasped at a breast painfully and she fought down her growing fear. He began tugging at her dress and she immediately bit down, tasting blood. It forced him to pull away and she twisted out of his grip using the broom to trip him. Rushing into the hall she slammed the door between them and dashed towards the main Chapel.

Hearing him swear from behind the door, she risked casting the spell **Accelerate** , and gave herself a burst of speed. The accompanying dizziness wasn't as bad as her previous attempts at casting something but it was still uncomfortable. The spell was also much stronger than she had anticipated, flinging her forward at incredible speed, behaving more like **Fade Step** , though with a longer duration.

As she rounded a corner she slammed into Sister Siran; who was surprised at being knocked on her ass. Luna maneuvered herself away from the end of the hallway. As she was yelled at, Byron walked up behind the Sister, slightly winded. With a disturbing grin on his face, he blew her a kiss as he exited the Chantry and she felt a cold pit of hatred growing within her. Ignoring the Sister she promptly wiped her mouth and ran to the cellar to find something to clean away the tang of copper. She would have to be extra careful not to be caught alone with him again.

_That fucking PIG! He knows they'll take his word over mine. He's counting on them believing I'm crazy. Sick bastard! Enough! Its time to leave._

After a rinse, then heavy pull, from one of the wine bottles secreted below, her mouth felt much cleaner. Grabbing an empty drawstring sack she gathered a few different foodstuffs, including some tubers she couldn't identify, and stuffed them into the bag. She threw a small wheel of cheese, and a few apples in as well, then headed to her room. She spent the rest of the day packing the meager belongings she had managed to secure during her long stay and avoided any further assigned work.

She snuck into the library, although no one seemed to be paying attention to her. The city, and the Chantry, had become a madhouse of activity. No one paid the simpleton wandering around any mind. She removed the map of Fereldan, folding it so that it would sit neatly in her shirt. As an afterthought she took a smaller map depicting known Thedas. It wasn't as detailed, showing no roads, and few towns but it might come in handy.

She resolved to wait for Tali before she left. The elf had promised to take her to enjoy 'Satinalia' later in the evening so she wouldn't stay in the Chantry alone all night. " _ **Ana cunnan oenlic tac swa muchel hailaga Canu**_ ," she'd claimed laughing at Luna's grimace as she tried to decipher her words. There had been something about too much chanting she was pretty sure.

The kindness shown by her friend was more than she rightly could have expected, it seemed to come to Tali as easy as breathing. She had an infectious smile and it was impossible not to care about her. Leaving without a word to her would be cruel. Especially given how close they had become lately. Tali, in turn, would tell Geoffery, saving her from having to do so.

The Templar could get it in his head to stop her, likely for her own good. That would complicate her departure, and she had no intention of staying until Byron braved attacking her again. She could also warn Tali about Byron, at least she could try to avoid him, or warn the other servants. Luna was running away, she knew it was cowardly, but her options were limited. She knew Byron would not stop harassing what he considered an easy target, and if she proved she wasn't, it would make things even more disastrous.

She shed her ragged dress, wrapping it around a bar of soap, and packed it as well. Donning a nicked pair of breeches, as well as a basic tunic, had her feeling more like herself than she had in months. She threw on a belt then began untangling her hair with a small wooden comb. Shortly, two french braids gently wove into one single braid down her back. Or were they called Orelsian braids here? Throwing the comb into the sack she shoved her sketchbook in, and waited.

_This isn't going to go well no matter how you over think it._

She grew concerned as the night wore on. Tali had yet to make an appearance, and she was getting impatient. A search of the Chantry had been fruitless, and the other servants still on duty had attributed her absence to the Festival. It bothered Luna though, it seemed out of character that she would break a promise to her. Still, she was the village idiot, and maybe Tali had simply decided she wanted a reprieve from baby sitting her. She hid the majority of her money in the harness under her shirt, but took a few coins and put them in her new belt pouch.

Throwing the bag over one shoulder she reluctantly headed out into the night. She resolved to have a good time before she left, and decided the best way to start was with a bubbling fruit tart. She stopped by one of the many merchant stalls dedicated to festival food, and promptly bit into one while it was still steaming hot. It may have actually been slightly too hot making the roof of her mouth, and her tongue, pucker in protest. She opened her mouth breathing quickly to cool the boiling food. She didn't care, it was absolutely delicious.

There were drunks everywhere. It was like Mardi Gras, but rustic, and with less beads. No one was almost naked, but the revelry felt the same. Stealing from drunk assholes was fairly easy, and her belt pouch was fuller by the time she was almost to the Main Gate. If they were stupid enough to be drunk in public, then they deserved to lose some coin. She also acquired a simple dagger from someone who thought it'd be funny to juggle them. Never juggle while drunk.

Fifteen or so paces from the last of the revelers there didn't seem to be any guards in the area. Glancing up at the main gate she wondered how she was going to sneak out, or if they would just let her leave. Surely they would have left someone there, it seemed irresponsible not to. She kept to the shadows of the buildings as much as possible just in case. The sound of indecent moaning made her stop in her tracks, as she glanced into the nearby alleyway.

At first she was embarrassed for the couple she was accidentally spying on. She had passed plenty of people that hadn't even made it to an alley. Then she realized that one of the participants was unmistakably Byron. His greasy hair was plastered to his head, his helm laying in the dirt by his side. He hadn't even removed his armor, which meant he was supposed to be on guard duty. To say she was disgusted was an understatement.

Then she glimpsed beautiful brown hair, framing the lifeless eyes of her only elven friend. Tali had not gone down without a fight, Byron's nose was broken, and his cheek was bleeding heavily. The sound of the cheering crowd behind her contrasted the horror of what she was seeing. She went numb.

She dropped her sack to the side, and timed her steps to match his obscene grunting. The discarded helm hefted into her hand, she swung it, forcefully striking him in the side of the head. He was so preoccupied he never saw the incoming blow. She didn't want him dead, not yet, she was going to make him suffer. He growled angrily at being interrupted and reached for his sword.

Unfortunately for him, Luna had used her dagger to cut the frogs on his belt, leaving it neatly at her feet. He hurled obscenities at her and charged, but she used his own momentum to fling him face down into the street. She retrieved the sword, discarding the scabbard, and charged him with the unsheathed blade. He was struggling to stand, backing farther away from her and closer to the festivities.

"You stupid _**bicce**_ , I'm going to _**brucan**_ hearing you scream!"

Just as he managed to stand, his back still turned, she thrust the tip of the sword into the back of his left knee. He cried out, more in anger than in pain, and she dodged away from him, trailing his blood. Limping, he swung his arm to backhand her, catching her in the shoulder. She fell backwards, still brandishing his sword in front of her, but she lost the dagger as she hit the ground. Managing to draw his own knife, he threw himself at her trying to grapple the sword away. Taking the chance, she cast **Draconic Might** again and shoved him to give herself room to maneuver.

Their scuffle was drawing attention, but she was too focused on her target. She hit him hard enough that he bowled over half a dozen onlookers, denting the armor in the shape of her hand-print. Whether it was because she was angry, or her spells were becoming easier to cast, it didn't matter. The effect was the same, she was terrifying. People backed away in fear and the Templar was left to her retribution. Screaming in anger, she threw his sword at him with two hands. It spun end over end and embedded itself into the stone paving in front of him.

" **You killed her!** You killed her! You sick fucking rapist!" she screamed, and **Accelerated** to stand in front of him as he tried to wrench the sword from the ground. Many in the crowd were panicking now, stampeding to flee the area. She grabbed the edge of his breastplate and pulled hard enough to snap the leather straps holding it together and flung it away to clatter along the cobblestones.

"You're a Mage?!" he choked in surprise, then turned a feral grin at her. She'd forgotten about the dagger, and slamming it into her side, he twisted it. He rammed his fist onto the pommel, driving it even deeper.

Screaming in pain, she reflexively tightened her grip, breaking Byron's wrist with one hand. She slammed her forehead into his, and he stumbled back, leaving the dagger lodged between her ribs. Cradling his arm, and shaking his head to clear it, he regained his balance. Seething at her he took a wider stance and seemed to gather himself. She saw a wavering in the air, like heat above a paved road, and saw it growing in intensity.

Part of her was relieved, she could see whatever he was doing, but her survival instinct had her bracing for impact. He released the **Silence** towards her, and as it washed over her, she felt the tension leave. Instead of pain she was blanketed with something very familiar. This was the way the world was SUPPOSED to feel, how Earth had felt. Rippling across her skin, it filled her with elation. It caused the Sigil on her neck to dissipate, and she felt her **Draconic Might** falter, settling within her with a familiar hum. The effect would be diminished by Thedosian standards, but was more than enough for her to work with. She began laughing nearly to the point of hysteria. There was absolutely no discomfort, it hadn't even ruffled her hair.

_Sure, just throw gasoline onto the bonfire, why not?!_

A fearful murmur arose from the people remaining, and she took the opportunity to plant more doubt. "I am the only one of my kind," she proclaimed angrily, making a sweeping gesture. She tilted her head to the side grinning broadly and asked, "Just what was that supposed to do?" Luna stalked toward him, if this was the worst that a **Silence** could do, then she had nothing to fear. His expression fell, and with his doubt, the effect of his Templar abilities vanished. She felt her enhanced strength return, full force, and readied herself.

* * * * * *

Her strange accent made her appear more menacing, like a barely contained savage, prowling to be free of her cage. Geoffery furrowed his brow wondering how she had hidden this dangerous part of herself for so long. Could her being a Mage account for the strange symbols she wrote in? Before he'd witnessed her writing, he'd assumed she was from an unknown tribe of the Avaar, or a child of the Chasind. Her ability to write combined with her perfect health could only mean she was Noble, but no family had claimed her missing. She had seemed lonely, meek, and seeing this display of violence was startling.

How she was still standing with a Templar's dagger rooted between her ribs confounded him. He had seen seasoned warriors felled by less and yet she stood proudly in defiance of Byron. She was wearing nothing to protect her, against a fully armored knight, and she seemed to think she could win. Her strength was astonishing, he's seen her rip away a breast plate as though it had been no more strenuous than tearing day old bread.

_Has everything about her been a lie? How could I not have seen this?_

The elder Templar had come upon the grim scene just as Luna attacked, then made her accusations against, Byron. He continued looking on in stunned horror. The implications of her immunity to a Templar's abilities disturbed him. More elves seemed to be gathering, rather than fleeing as the humans were. They whispered among themselves, sending the downed Templar murderous glances. Some of them he recognized from the Chantry, and others still from local shops. It was clear that they viewed Luna as justified in her actions.

Geoffery wasn't wearing his armor, having taken the night off. He had come looking for the girls when they failed to meet him for the evening. The elves seemed to be doing their best to keep everyone away from the two combatants. He stopped short of forcing his way through, when he saw Tali's limp, form being carried gently towards the growing throng. He felt as though the air had been stolen from his lungs. Sweet, gentle, caring Tali was a lifeless corpse. The elves were a stones throw away from starting a riot, and he would not be that stone.

_By the Maker what has Byron done?!_

Guilt ate at him. Could this have been avoided if he simply had never brought Luna here? Then he realized how absurd he was being, Byron would have done something like this sooner or later. The signs had been there, he had simply pushed them aside. How many more victims would there have been if not for Luna? Could he have hidden it for months, weeks, or years? It was not unheard of, whispered rumors spoke of such things, but there was never proof. The offending Templar was usually transferred to another city or Circle. Now was not the time to assign guilt or blame.

_Just how far am I willing to let this go?_

* * * * * *

Looking lost, Byron searched for his comrades, but no one was coming to his rescue. She took advantage and attacked the lone Templar, thanking Marcus for what she was about to do. Removing the dagger from her side she threw it so that it found itself buried in the soft spot beside his groin. He collapsed to his knees instantly, gasping for breath, as she stalked over to him.

"You enjoy raping elves?" she asked in outraged disgust, no longer caring about her audience. She grabbed his shoulder guard in a punishing grip, crushing it, then knocked him flat. Picking up a nearby mug of ale, she straddled his legs as she palmed the dagger, pressing her weight into it to inflict more damage. He opened his mouth to respond, so she bashed the mug repeatedly in his face, spilling the ale over him as a bonus.

He spat blood at her, and punched her in the side, digging his knuckles into the open wound. "It was only a _**blodig**_ knife-ear, you _**gemoedde**_ _**bicce**_!" The mood of the crowd shifted dangerously at his declaration, but he didn't seem to notice. Several of the elves reached for hidden daggers, ready to jump in if it looked like she wouldn't finish the job. The pair was unaware that Tali's body had already been retrieved, and that the elves were hampering Templar efforts to reach them.

Something in Luna snapped. The months of uncertainty, the loss of all she had known, and now the murder of Tali was simply too much for her mind. The dam holding her emotions in check disintegrated into pure fury. She grabbed the knife and pulled it upwards along his body. Blood welled from the wound as he screamed, trying to throw her off of him. She met him with grim silence, determinedly carving his pelvis into hamburger, as she held him down with her inhuman strength. Soon enough all he could do was whimper, having screamed himself hoarse.

Flinging the dagger away blindly she began beating his face into a bloody pulp. She didn't notice the elves whisk it away, she was too busy yelling with every drum of her fists against flesh. She continued hitting him long after he stopped moving, painting herself, and the surrounding ground with blood and brain matter. It wasn't enough, it would never be enough, Tali was never going to come back. She was gone, lost to her, as all else was lost to her. Scores of elves lingered in the area, watching as she continued to beat him until he was essentially a bloody smear wrapped in cloth and metal.

Breathing hard she finally came back to herself, and glimpsed what remained of Tali. She stood up in a daze, walking the few paces to her friend's body, which the elves had laid gently behind her. She should have turned and left, fled the city, and never looked back. Staying was stupid, but she couldn't just leave her like that. Cradling her friend's head she ignored the tears streaming down her gore encrusted face. Luna's hands were swollen, and several fingers had broken, but all her focus was on the pale visage in her arms. She didn't acknowledge the procession of elves that followed her as she bore her friend to the elven district.

She strode with purpose, and no one stopped her. Not really knowing where her feet had decided to take her, she found herself before the painted tree, newly bedecked with ribbons and lanterns. She couldn't remember what they called it, but knew it was important to Tali, and to the city elves. It reminded her of the trees used in Shamanism by her mother's people.

Laying Tali at its roots, she did the only thing she could think of, she began to sing. She poured not only how she was feeling into the song, but lent the music some of her magic. It amplified her voice, and produced an eerie harmony that echoed throughout the city. She reached out, trying to touch the world with her pain, and sensed something reaching back.

Tali's body began to glow, dimly at first, then brighter as she continued to sing. The elves watched her with wide eyes as she reached the climax of the lament, and ethereal music seemed to accompany her, pulled from the air itself. Amaranthine listened in wonder, and fear, unsure of where the music was coming from.

"[ **In Uthenera**](https://open.spotify.com/track/6UBwh1VHJ8wavxegcaYsCY?si=4CONbYwUSfaNrUGKSsEnoQ)" or "Leliana's song"

 _ **Hahren na melana sahlin**_  
_**Emma ir abelas**_  
_**Souver'inan isala hamin**_  
_**Vhenan him dor'felas**_  
_**In uthenera na revas**_

 _ **Vir sulahn'nehn**_  
_**Vir dirthera**_  
_**Vir samahl la numin**_  
_**Vir lath sa'vunin**_

 _ **Vir sulahn'nehn**_  
_**Vir dirthera**_  
_**Vir samahl la numin**_  
_**Vir lath sa'vunin**_

The spell formed a connection, grasping at something deep within her, and she pulled back, straining herself to her limits. She didn't feel in control, it would have been more accurate to say she was a conduit. Power flowed through her like a river, from what source she couldn't say, and she ended the song feeling exhausted. As she let the song fade away, she turned to see the elves had parted to let a single figure through. Tali's body was no where to be found, having vanished along with the music. Geoffery's eyes met hers and he asked what they were all thinking, "What are you?"

"I don't know."

"Are you a Mage?" he asked his hands still hanging limply at his sides, his eyes never leaving hers. He said the word as if it were a cursed and filthy thing.

"No. I am something else."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ege trape : **eye catching**  
>  Ana cunnan oenlic tac swa muchel hailaga Canu :  
>  One can only take so much holy Chanting  
> 
> 
> Bicce : **Bitch**  
> 
> 
> Brucan : **Enjoy**  
> 
> 
> Blodig : **Bloody**  
> 
> 
> Gemoedde : **Insane/foolish**
> 
> "Leliana's Song" also known as "In Uthenera"  
>  Original by: Inon Zur  
> 
> 
> I recommend the Version by: Psy'Aviah  
>  https://open.spotify.com/track/6UBwh1VHJ8wavxegcaYsCY  
> 
> 
> My playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/dysonae/playlist/77JAkz5U1PaxMQUcqjqcLe?si=4Ua4IXHKToWYW_Cx3qatlw
> 
> Translated from Elvhen:  
>  **Elder your time has come**  
>  **Now I am filled with sorrow**  
>  **Weary eyes need resting**  
>  **Heart has become gray and slow**  
> 
> 
> **In waking sleep is freedom**  
>  **We sing, rejoice**  
>  **We tell the tales**  
>  **We laugh and cry**  
>  **We love one more day**  
> 


	7. CHANGE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

"By the Maker, what do you mean!? We all saw you rip a man apart; with your bare hands! Are you a Demon then?" Geoffery was clenching his fists, shaking with emotion as the elves watched him warily.

"I don't enter the Fade. How could I be a Demon?" Luna threw up her arms in exasperation.

"You mean like a dwarf? No, your eyes were glowing!"

She raised an eyebrow incredulously and scoffed, "I'm not a dwarf. **Seriously, I'm not that short**." She made to stride past him and he grabbed her by the arm. He stared intently at her, searching for something. She stared back, not giving an inch, she would not be intimidated any longer.

"Letting go of me, Geoffery." she said, her tone turning icy and her grammar slipping. "You just see me beat man to dead. I don't trust the Chantry, and I don't trust the Templar Order. I not be throw in Dungeon." She pulled away from his grip, easily freeing herself.

"If you are an Apostate then it is my duty to bring you to a Circle."

She shook her head, and gave a short laugh. She enunciated each word, pausing between for emphasis. "I AM NOT CONNECTED TO THE FADE."

"Then come with me. You and I could explain..."

She laughed again, the sound carrying no humor, "What. You will explain what? Wake up. Look around old man." She indicated the elves and their surroundings. "Your people think I'm stupid or crazy. They not know difference between stupid, and learning an **entire** language." She jabbed her finger at him to emphasize her point. "You hide behind Andraste's skirt. They will try to make me Tranquil. Even you, my friend, don't believe I am not Mage. I not know what the Rite will do to me, do you?" She looked up at him in defiance.

"What you say is impossible. Magic comes from the Fade. Without the Chantry to guide us ..."

"The People might think for themself? And if did work, that what you want of me? A mindless Chantry slave?" Her sarcastic comment met with silence. Casually lifting the side of her tunic she displayed her ribs, looking to patch the knife wound. It was probably considered indecent or ill mannered but she couldn't bring herself to care right now.

There were whispered comments, and she was as surprised as they were, to find the wound was almost completely healed. There was still a large scab, but it should have still been bleeding profusely, possibly needing stitches. Instead it looked like it had been healing for weeks, with pink scar tissue around the edges.

_Huh, well that's not normal._

Geoffery said nothing, just continued looking incredibly angry. She let out an amused huff when she realized her tunic was still covered in blood and had soaked the edge of her map. It must have healed while she was singing, that was interesting. All of the bruising and bone damage she'd sustained during the fight had vanished as well.

_Not sure what it means. Not that it has to MEAN anything. Gods, now I'm seeing portents and signs. OOoOooOoo Cue dramatic music._

Suddenly an elven man, with shoulder length sandy blonde hair, interrupted their argument. She vaguely remembered seeing him working in the stables at the Chantry. The other elves seemed to be looking to him for direction. She noticed that he didn't have the same emaciated, starving, look that most elves were prone too. Most of them were staring at her with open suspicion and fear. Lowering her shirt she berated herself for not remembering his name, she would need to be more observant.

"This is all very interesting Shem, but she needs to leave, NOW." She flinched at his angry tone, and the use of the slur, while he folded his arms and gave Geoffery a stern glare. "The Templars are already on their way. I won't risk a purge ... we can help _**wilder**_ her trail, but its all we can offer." Turning to Luna he said, "You avenged Tali, but we owe you nothing." She should probably have been grateful they weren't offering her to the Templars on a silver platter.

Geoffery looked at the elf with barely contained anger, "You would let a Demon walk free?!"

The elf scoffed, "I've seen Demons before Templar. THAT she isn't."

Geoffery flinched realizing they knew he was with the Order, and frowned at the elf's assertive tone. "And if she is an Apostate? I could have you charged."

"Who _**parfit**_ would you be charging Shem? The entire Alienage? Do you even know my name? Or am I simply 'the blonde one'? " He was openly sneering at the surprised human now. "She has done much good here in the Alienage. She arrived here with nothing, and has freely given of herself. If she is an Apostate she is not an evil one. That's enough for me."

Luna was surprised by his bold declaration, and his claim of having encountered demons before. His aura was tightly guarded, unreadable, much like the Templars. Just who was this elf, and how long had he been observing her? She had assumed no one was paying her any mind. Just how much had she given away? The Templar blinked in surprise, his gaze shifting from Luna to the elf and back again.

Sighing, she stalked over to the angry elf. The others took up defensive postures, but they backed off as he motioned them away. "What IS your name?" she asked walking closer, lowering her voice. She ignored the prickling sensation of hostile eyes following her every move.

"Why do you care?"

"I remember my debts."

He glanced warily at Geoffery, then leaned in close. His breath tickling her ear as he whispered, "I'm known as The Broker. Now run along little Trickster." She flinched as she recognized Tali's nickname for her. Then looked down in surprise when he handed a dagger back to her. It had been cleaned, all traces of Byron's blood removed. The Templar crest winked at her in the torch light.

She nodded, sheathing the weapon, and headed towards the Alienage exit. "I will lead them away. Tali would never forgive me if the Alienage purged." She gestured to the armed elves. "You need a distraction. Tell them what I do to Byron. Templars should leave alone then." She looked at Geoffery for confirmation, and he gave her a nod, refusing to look her in the eye.

The elf was momentarily stunned by her suggestion, then nodded and turned to give the elves some instructions. They spoke too quietly for her to hear, but she wasn't really trying to listen in. They darted away silently, as though they had never been there. "Just go, you're trouble. We have enough of that." Some kind of alarm bell began ringing in the distance and she hurried her steps.

She had only walked a few blocks away from the Alienage when Geoffery surprised her by speaking. She hadn't realized he was still following her. "Most of those are good men Luna, they're just trying to protect people." Continuing to follow her through the deserted section of the city he glanced nervously around every corner. It looked like an abandoned carnival, discarded refuse, and destroyed merchant stands littering the ground.

"It is Luna again? Not Demon?" she asked impatiently. He didn't respond, simply continuing to march behind her. She didn't have time for his feelings. Death was fast approaching, wrapped in steel, and religious dogma. She had murdered one of their own, and Geoffery could not continue to shield her forever. If she were honest, she wasn't even sure he would, or that she really deserved it.

Slowly, she made her way back toward the Main Gate and saw that Byron's corpse had disappeared. She didn't want to think about what the elves planned to do with it. Quite frankly she didn't care. Her traveling sack was still leaning against the building where she'd left it. He shook his head when he realized she had already been in the process of leaving the city.

"We are not all corrupt."

"I remember that, when they trying to murder me." Leaning down she grabbed the sack and slung it over one shoulder. "Get me outside gate, if they are catching me..."

"I'll lead you out. I heard what Byron confessed. He deserved it, but not all will agree with me. I will have to make a report."

"Even the part where you help me escape?"

"I'll leave that part out." He said wryly, leading her to a small guard room. It in turn led to a smaller exit that he unlocked. She still found it strange that no one was manning the gatehouse, or guarding the wall. Then it dawned on her, it must have been Byron's shift, and he had cleared the wall to cover his tracks. The noise of the celebration had done the rest. It started to make her angry all over again, but she shoved it aside, she needed to be able to think. Being angry all the time could be draining, she'd deal with her emotions later.

Before they parted ways she looked at him wistfully, this was the end of their friendship. If he saw her again, he would likely be forced to try to arrest her, and she would never allow it. He was leading her around the wall towards a small path leading along the main road, "You have killed before." It was a statement not a question.

"Yes."

Geoffery was staring at her, she kept catching him at it. She didn't know what he suddenly found so fascinating but it was unnerving. Then again considering everything that had happened tonight, she shouldn't be surprised. He nodded, and made to turn away.

"You're wrong you know." His brow furrowed and he looked ready to argue but she held her hand up to silence him. "No, listen careful. The Templars are lost purpose. YOU are good. They will come to bad end. Leave."

She didn't know if he would take her advice. It wasn't as though she had time to fully explain what she meant in her stilted Common. She only hoped her serious demeanor, and what he had witnessed tonight was enough to save him. The last thing she wanted was for him to become a Red Templar. She was under no delusion that she could be in Thedas without changing things. Her mere presence was changing things. That's how time worked, ripples in a pond, small choices creating greater ripples than predictable.

_Please, you just brutally murdered someone, and you're looking for justification. You are a complete mess. I wonder how long before they catch up with me._

He looked her over once more, then strode back up the path calling back to her, "Leave Fereldan _**smoel fugal**_. I don't care where you go, but Fereldan will be warned against you."

_I really need to find out what 'smoel fugal' means._

"Farewell ... **my friend**."

With that thought she checked her magic reserves and was unsurprised to find them nearly depleted. She began a slow jog, trying to put as much distance between herself and Amaranthine as possible. The familiar ache in her soul had returned. There was no way for her to predict if/when she might be able to recharge. Short of challenging a Mage that was. Her abilities were taking less power each time she used them, but they also seemed to be increasing in tangible effect.

Maybe her body was adapting to Thedas, or perhaps it was her own acceptance that magic was stronger here. She thought on the unintended effects of her last spell, she would have to be more careful when experimenting. It could easily have killed her, but her grief had been all consuming. She still wasn't entirely certain how she had done it, **Voice** was intended only to amplify volume and emotional resonance.

She kept to the side path for about twenty minutes, then braved the main road. It was more open, and they would more than likely search it first, but she had no choice. She'd make far better time running on level ground. When a smaller dirt road veered to the west she left what she hoped were obvious signs she'd turned that way. Then backtracked in her own footprints to the stone road. She had no way of knowing if it would work, Templars had hundreds of years of practice tracking rogue Mages.

Hours later she sat by a small stream, massaging the stitch in her side from her nonstop pace. Checking her knife wound she found that it had reopened a bit, blood was slowly soaking into her shirt again. Hopefully she hadn't left any along the road for them to track her. She pulled the dress out of her bag and ripped part of the hem of the skirt. Wrapping the thin cloth around her ribs she prayed the bleeding would stop.

She pulled out her map, and tried to decide where to go. Geoffery had warned her to leave Fereldan, now she needed to figure out if she intended to do as he asked. Blood, her blood, had seeped into the folds of the parchment and she had to be very careful while opening it. It crackled as she pulled the folds apart, brown/black flakes scattering to the ground. Luckily it was parchment, not paper, and didn't tear as easily.

_Denerim is out of the question now, or is it? If they manage to get a messenger there before me it'll be swarming with Templars looking for me. I really don't know much about the Free Marches, but Kirkwall sounds like a shit hole. Antiva maybe? Or Orlais? My accent will pretty much peg me as a foreigner no matter where I go._

Sighing, she used a small rock to hold the map down while she went and filled her small waterskin. Leaning over she scooped handfuls of the clear water into her mouth. She never thought just plain water could taste so good. A month of stale ales and cheap stolen wine had left her craving drinks from home. Who knew peach tea would be a luxury she might never taste again? Didn't Thedas have coffee? She began washing the remnants of Byron off herself when she suddenly paused, staring at her reflection as the ripples cleared.

_No ... no, no , nononono ... there's no fucking way._

She'd reverted back a good ten years in age. Every wrinkle and blemish had simply vanished. Staring in disbelief, she began cataloging everything about herself. She reached for her mouth, tonguing the long fangs she hadn't had when she woke up that morning. Then she traced the delicate and obvious point of one of her ears in disbelief.

_Great, I'm a Hobbit._

Well, she wasn't REALLY a Hobbit. It was just the closest her mind could come to a description. No one would mistake her for a Thedosian elf, her ears were simply too short. She examined the rest of herself, dreading what changes she might find. She even removed her foot wraps, double checking her feet to be sure she hadn't suddenly sprouted copious amounts of hair. This must all have been the result of the glow Geoffery had mentioned.

" **Well this is a whole new level of fuckery**."

She couldn't find anything else truly different, but there was no real way for her to be sure. There hadn't been any mirrors for her to use at the Chantry, and her leaner body could be the product of her current lifestyle. Had she been this way since she'd arrived in Thedas and had simply failed to notice? She rubbed her flat stomach in appreciation, it hadn't looked this good since before the birth of her son. No wonder Geoffery and the elves had stared at her.

Sitting down with a sigh, she glanced over her blood encrusted map, and pulled out her secret journal. She could worry about the disturbing changes to her person later. If she was ever going to get home, her best chance was to somehow consult with a Mage. Perhaps they could even help her figure out why her body had changed. That meant her choices of known mages included Wynne, Fiona, Anders, Morrigan, Solas or Flemeth. Hell would freeze over before she ever consulted with Vivienne, and the College of Enchanters was either disbanded or soon would be. There was also no guarantee that Jowan was still alive.

The biggest issue she had was a matter of time. She wasn't sure when the events she remembered were supposed to take place. She knew it was 9:34 Dragon, but she'd never really paid attention to the calendar system. The games had sometimes spanned years, skipping great swathes of time with a cinematic, then moving on to the juicy bits of the story. She didn't have that luxury here.

She knew that Wynne would make an appearance at the White Spire, along with her son Rhys, and that they would then journey through Orlais to Adamant. She also knew they would only be accompanied by a single Templar. That meant catching them before they entered the desert if she intended to ask Wynne for help, she hated deserts. The spirit healer could be more open to helping her than most, but she was also stubbornly comfortable with the status quo. It was definitely an option, though it risked Cole's story becoming twisted by her presence. Luna had no idea how Cole would react to her, and he was currently a dangerous, if misguided, killer.

_Well I'm just as dangerous. So ... what? I just sit outside of the Tavern in Evangeline's home town and hope the local assholes don't try to kill me? For how long? A month? A few years?_

She wasn't sure exactly where Fiona was at the moment, but she would probably be locked in some Circle Tower. Fiona should never have been in charge of the Rebelling Mages in her opinion. Who in their right minds would EVER think that selling themselves into indentured servitude to Tevinter was a good idea?

_Tevinter ... Tevinter has lots of Mages. Oh yeah, there's an option for you. Mr. Scary Bloodmage Magister Sir, could you please help me get back to my home dimension? Oh, that's a parallel world, different from Thedas, possibly beyond the Fade. Yes, please experiment on my body as you try to unravel my super secret powers. I would love to be your slave. NOPE._

Sighing she pulled out an apple and devoured it, saving the seeds just in case. Unfolding the smaller map of Thedas she traced a finger along the coast of Orlais. Would Morrigan even deign to help her if she could even locate the Shifter? According to the games she had an extremely prickly personality. Luna was also pretty sure that she was still in the Crossroads somewhere. Morrigan wouldn't make an appearance in Orlais until after the Mage Rebellion had already started, when an Apostate at court wouldn't cause such a scandal. Or did she only go to the Crossroads if she had birthed Kieran?

_The Map Gods are laughing at me._

She stared at the parchment seeking some sort of epiphany or inspiration. None were forth coming. Still if she planned on traveling anywhere she would need a cover. Perhaps she could find a guitar or lute to purchase in the next town or city. She could also make a fife or panpipes, that would mean no singing, but since most of the songs she knew were in English, that might not be such a bad idea.

She looked at her newly blood stained shirt and frowned. Her only other clothing was that horrendous dress. The article in question had definitely seen better days. It had already been nearly threadbare when she'd received it. Peeling the tunic away from her skin she rinsed it in the stream. Scrubbing it with soap, she beat it against the rocks, until there was only a slight stain. It wouldn't look pristine, but it was better than showing up looking like she was about to bleed out. She finished cleaning herself as well, then re-braided her hair, ensuring her ears were covered.

Her build was similar to the lithe elves, but her hips were wider than theirs, and she had thicker musculature. 'Birthing Hips' as her husband used to say. As long as she didn't smile too widely, no one should notice her fangs. Maybe she really could pass for a taller dwarf, or with a baggier tunic as a young boy. Besides, plenty of people already had sharp teeth in Thedas, with no one commenting on the fact. It wasn't like they were comically large.

_I hope._

Repacking her belongings she folded the maps and placed them in her sack. Her shirt was still wet, and she wasn't sure that Thedosian ink wouldn't run. She glanced at the harness with her notebook and frowned. Come to think of it, charcoal would definitely bleed away if it were to get wet. Removing her notebooks she traced a Sigil of **Preservation** onto the inside covers. As with the previous Sigil she'd placed on her neck, there was a silvery shimmer, as though it had been written in silver ink. A brief flash of blue light encompassed the texts, and she smiled to see the spell worked here.

_Whew, I missed casting openly. I wonder if they're functioning the way enchantments or wards do in Thedas. It barely used any mana. I really need time to test all my spells I'm not even sure how long this will last. Of course, I'd need a steady supply of mana to do that._

She decided that she would still head to Denerim. After the journey there she could pay for passage on a ship. The destination of the ship didn't matter right now, at least she had part of a plan. Nobody would ever believe someone running from Templars would head straight for the Capital of Fereldan. If she kept a good pace she might be able to reach it in a few days, ahead of any messengers. Resuming her jog she felt oddly lighter, her departure had not been ideal, but now the world lay ahead.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wilder : **confuse**  
>  parfit : **exactly**  
>  smoel fugal : **little bird**


	8. SMUGGLER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna gasped for breath, pumping her arms and legs faster, trying to outrun the approaching hoof beats. She thanked the Gods she had decided to modify the sack so she could wear it across one shoulder, carrying it by hand would have been cumbersome. An hour earlier, she had doubled her pace, removing herself from the small road and heading southeast. If her navigation were off, or the map inaccurate then she would end up lost. It was a serious gamble, the road would have eventually led her to Denerim anyway, despite it being an indirect route.

She knew her trail was hardly concealed as well as possible, but there hadn't been time. Everyday since they'd caught her trail, she had managed to elude them, cutting her way across farms and small back trails. The increasing cold and looming snow clouds were making her nervous. What she had caught of their conversations implied they were tiring of the chase, they weren't even sure that they were following her still. Attacking under those circumstances would have been foolhardy, though if they persisted she would have no choice but to try thinning their numbers.

She had an advantage the Templars were not used to countering and that was a lifetime spent evading 'The Shroud.' Scaling a cliff was not outside of her range of experience, nor was obfuscating her passage by taking to the trees. Several of their encounters had been close enough that she could easily have slit an unsuspecting Templar's throat and been on her merry way.

_No one ever thinks to look up._

The lack of a Phylactery must have been especially hampering. She was feeling pretty confident, as they had yet to catch her, even when she was only paces away. Then again, they still relentlessly pursued her trail. Months spent in a Chantry, unable to effectively practice, had dulled her skills somewhat. She was just grateful Templars didn't have the advantage of Satellite and camera surveillance.

Apostates were generally escaped Circle Mages, who turned to Blood Magic as a last resort, or desperate Scholars breathing freedom for the first time. They were taught to be helpless outside of a Circle, deliberately, making them easier to track should they escape. True there were exceptions to this rule, but she doubted the Templars knew just how many Mages were escaping their 'Protection.' Wasn't so simple when the farmers' daughter wasn't trussed up by her own parents.

_These 'mighty hunters' are used to their prey being penned in cages, ready for them to shoot. I'll take complacent Templars over real trackers any day._

They had to know that whoever they were tracking was on their way to Denerim by now. There was no amount of backtracking that would cover that fact. For three days she had led them on a chase that wound back and forth across the countryside, edging nearer the port city. Her trip had taken longer because of it, and she had used up her food supply. She was now headed, at a full sprint, straight for the main highway. Insomnia, had given her the precious extra hours to stay ahead of the riders, but she was tiring quickly.

It would be easier to enter the city as a legitimate traveler. No one would expect the Apostate to simply walk boldly up to the main gate. At least, that was what she hoped. If she could secure passage on a ship before the Templars tried to shut down the port she'd be home free. There would be no leisurely layover at a comfortable Inn tonight.

Relief filled her as she burst out of the treeline and found herself on a well maintained road. Smiling, she checked her bearings, and headed north. Soon she found herself walking with a group of varied strangers all headed toward the Fereldan Capital. There seemed to be merchants, farmers, and several mercenaries, forming an impromptu caravan of sorts. They didn't speak to one another, but didn't bat an eye when she trailed along behind them. She soon saw why.

Wagons laden with goods joined the procession, but there was also a steady stream of travelers heading away from the capital. Carriages carrying Nobles seemed to catch the interest of everyone, slowing traffic further. She walked up to a merchant carrying what appeared to be bolts of cloth to the city, and struck up a friendly, if short conversation.

She quickly purchased a small amount of dark green, relatively cheap, cloth and wrapped it around herself. Draping a portion over her head like a hood, she laughed when she realized she was essentially wearing a toga. Pulling her belt around it to keep everything in place she purposefully walked up behind a cart; so heavily laden it obscured her from view. Pretending to trip she mussed her new purchase with as much dirt as possible then leaned against the cart as if she had been walking beside it for a long journey.

They were slowly making their way past the first of the towers when a group of Templars arrived at full gallop. There was yelling, and confusion, as the Templars immediately began searching the crowd. They were singling out women wearing head coverings, and or those who had dark hair. She had underestimated them. Watching them askance, so as not to draw attention to her scrutiny, she ducked further behind the wagon. She quickly scanned its contents to find anything that might be useful.

_AH, perfect!_

Spotting a bag of flour she picked up a loose twig from the ground. Lowering her hood, she twisted her braid into a bun, then used the twig to secure it in place. Casually she slipped her hand into the wagon, slit the seam, grabbed a handful of flour and dusted it over her hair coloring it a light gray. It wouldn't pass close inspection, but from a distance, the change was significant.

The Templars, searching for a raven haired young woman, overlooked what appeared to be nothing more than a gray haired peasant, stooping by the merchant cart. Thus, hiding in plain sight, she strode into Denerim, and headed toward the great market. The capital city was bustling with activity, Amaranthine seemed like a backwater in comparison. She fought the urge to gawk like a tourist.

She took a few minutes to peruse wares like any other visitor. Unfortunately the only instruments for sale were far out of her price range. As she walked passed a junk dealer the disreputable looking salesman began showing her all manner of useless trinkets. One such trinket, appearing to be some sort of bracelet, seemed to be vibrating. The item looked just as cheap as everything else in the cart, but her mage senses told her otherwise.

Picking it up she almost dropped it as a unexpected surge of power caused the item to glow in her hand. Instinctually she began to draw in the energy and it rushed from the object, through her fingers, and up her arm. Her nerves came alive as the mana coursed through her body. In the blink of an eye the bracelet's vibrating stopped, and she found herself fully recharged. Feigning disinterest, she returned the item to cart, knowing it was of no further use to her.

_Okay. Never had anything like that happen before ... I guess I can used enchanted items as a kind of battery._

Wasting no more time, she followed the bulk of the wagons towards the warehouse district. This was a living breathing city, not an image on a computer screen, and it was wondrous. She wanted to spend the next week exploring it, but Denerim was the heart of Fereldan's monarchy, and every second she remained, could be her last. Slipping away from the wagons she noted that the Alienage gates weren't barred, as they had been during Origins. Though the signs of burnt out buildings gave her pause. Shouldn't they have repaired any damage done during the Blight by now?

Raising her hood, and muffling her face, she skirted the Alienage; keeping to the seedier parts of the city. Now that she was around people, she renewed the **Memory Charm** , again placing it on her neck. She would need the enhancement more than ever. It would leave her with a killer headache by the end of the day, but she needed to learn this language fluently if she were going to survive. She headed toward what sounded like the port, using the smaller alley ways. This section of the city seemed to have sustained heavy damage, many of the buildings still laying in ruins. There were plenty of places for her to hide if she needed to.

She passed a man half lying in the rubble strewn street and half in the gutter. He was either drunk, or dead. Judging from the odor, it was probably the latter, and stepping quickly past she fought her gag reflex. The smell was overpowering, and she hurried her steps. Through the stench and dinge of the alley way she heard whispering from around the next bend. Who would willingly stay anywhere near a rotting corpse?

Peering around carefully she saw two figures speaking in hushed voices in front of a building that looked ready to fall at any moment. One stood tall and slender, the other short and stocky. The taller of the two dragged a large crate from inside the building, along with a heavy looking chest. Depositing these in the alley, he stepped back into the doorway, only to return moments later with a large, bulky sack. The shorter of the two then handed over a hefty looking pouch of money which vanished into the taller man's cloak as quickly as the man himself vanished into the building, closing the door behind himself.

"Stupid Blighter, ye could have helped me _**laitho**_ it at least," the dwarf grumbled in an irritated, gravely voice, as she heard multiple dead bolts falling into place. His dim aura was austere, close to the body, ending sharply as if hewn from stone. Struggling with the heavy sack he turned toward a hand cart a short distance from the door. He was blocking the only way forward so she waited patiently, trying to ignore the odor assaulting her nose. She glanced behind her, checking to be sure the Templars wouldn't suddenly materialize to drag her away. Amid all the cursing and complaining, he somehow managed to load the cart.

She followed him at a safe distance, and was pleasantly surprised when he led her straight to the docks. They passed several bored looking guards, and very busy dock loaders. Luna concluded that all ports essentially smelled and sounded the same, no matter what century you were in. Dodging the frantic activity, she continued to follow the dwarf at a safe distance. She saw an opportunity, one that hopefully would allow her to gain passage on a ship, off the books.

They had just arrived at a rather unimpressive vessel when a portly man wearing far too much jewelry began yelling at the top of his lungs, garnering everyone's attention. He was speaking with a flustered looking guard that was trying his best to shush the man and failing miserably. He was waving a piece of paper at the man, which only further infuriated him.

His booming voice carried right over the din. "You can't close the docks to one of the busiest ports in Fereldan for an Apostate that may or may not even be here!"

_Well that was subtle. Guess the Port Authority is getting a little business on the sly._

Pandemonium ensued, a good fourth of the dock workers dropped the cargo they carried where they stood, and took off running. They vanished into the city like rats fleeing a sinking ship; or maybe more like fleas fleeing a sinking rat. Several of the ships captains were ordering the mooring lines be cut, including the one she'd followed the dwarf to. He was desperately struggling with his cart, becoming more creative with his swearing by the second.

_Well, so much for picking my destination. I need to get on a ship, ANY ship._

Striding up to the dwarf she calmly pitched her voice lower, to hide her gender. With her loose fitting toga/shirt, and the bandage wound around her torso, hopefully she'd pass. Sailors on Earth had considered women to be bad luck on a ship, and she wasn't sure if that carried over here. Trying to make her voice huskier she stated, "It looks like you need help."

"Well, thank ye, for _**mearcian**_ the bloody obvious boy." His sarcasm and foul temper was fully turned on her, but he was eyeing her appraisingly. "And what'd a skinny whelp like ye be able ta do 'bout that?" His face was turning slightly purple from the strain of trying to drag the chest up the gangplank.

Subtly she boosted her strength and hoisted the dwarf's large sack from the cart with one hand. She carefully set it down in front of him making sure to keep an eye on the hand that had quickly grabbed the short sword at his side. After growling about his horrible luck, and something about Andraste's tits he asked, "And just what is it ye'll be wanting? I can't pay ye much."

"I help you. I go with you." She pointed at the vessel that grew steadily more ready to leave, indicating she wanted passage. The sound of the angry dock workers verbally abusing the guards was getting louder, and the tension was palpable. Bells began tolling across the city, and she was actually impressed with the speed the Templars had managed in sounding the alarm. She needed to leave the port, one way or another.

At that, most opportune, moment the ship's first mate cried out, "We're on our way! Get loaded or keep ashore!"

Eyes widening in panic he uttered one final curse, then said, "ALRIGHT! Get this aboard now!"

Smirking, she gently pushed the chest forward, while simultaneously lifting the sack again, and slinging it over her shoulder. They made it up onto the deck with barely a moment to spare. They were pulling out just as she finished stowing the Dwarf's goods where he directed her.

A man, desperately in need of a bath, wrenched her by the shoulder when she went back on deck. "Who be ye? I don't remember ye face, we don't take kindly ta _**daegans**_!"

She grunted in surprise then growled out angrily, "I'm with him." She pointed at her new employer and hoped he didn't reneg on his end of the bargain. He must have considered it, because he stared at the two for them for considerably longer than he should have needed. She held her breath, waiting to see what the dwarf decided to do.

"Yeah, yeah, the boy's with me. Let him down Rupert."

"You sure 'bout this one Turrik? The last tried ta knife ye in your sleep."

"Mind ye own business ye old pirate. I said he was with me ... as per our ... _**doelan**_ ... that means he gets ta be on the ship."

"Fine, ye old codger. Dun says I didna warn ye." The lanky human grumbled to himself, then began barking orders at several deck hands that had been listening with interest. He cast Luna a sly look saying, "Cap'n be charging extra ta clean up mind ye. Try not ta bleed on anyt'in."

_That accent is going to make this head ache so much worse. Now I have to double translate everything they're saying._

Turrik flashed the odious man two fingers and must have said something very crude. She wasn't really sure she wanted to know what it meant. She followed him into what appeared to be a private bunk. Gesturing to a hammock, he settled at a small writing desk in the corner, and promptly began scrawling in his ledger. She hoped the ship would stay together for the journey, it groaned with every slam of the waves, and there appeared to be a fair amount of rotting wood even here.

Forgoing the hammock in favor of the corner of the room, she settled onto the floorboards while keeping her hand near her weapon. The dwarf seemed to be ignoring her now, grumbling over his books with increasing agitation. Appearances could be deceiving, and despite having had little sleep in days, she had no intention of leaving herself vulnerable to a knife. She couldn't see much in the dim cabin, but she had no interest in his illicit activities anyway.

"I'm not planning on knifing ye today lad," he said into the silence, making her jump in surprise. He laughed while she rubbed the elbow that she'd slammed into the wall. "Jumpy ain't ye. So yu're runnin'. Any chance of ye tellin me what ye're runnin' from?" He laughed again when she narrowed her eyes, slapping one of his knees, he pointed to the cabin door. "Sleep. I got work ta do. Only ones ye need fear, are on the other side of that door."

Having never traveled by ship, she had feared she might become sea sick. Especially given that Thedas had two moons, which caused the seas to be rougher, and the waves to be larger. However she was pleasantly surprised to find the rocking of the boat quite soothing.

She knew it was probably foolish, but Turrik had a manner that seemed to put her at ease. The gruff dwarf who only hours earlier had been cursing, enough to make even her blush, didn't seem the kind to offer platitudes. Gripping her dagger in one hand, she leaned against the wall, and decided she had very little choice either way. She wasn't a teenager, despite appearances, and she had barely slept in the past few days. Closing her eyes, the rocking of the sea lulled her, and she settled into a light sleep.

Later that evening she ventured back up on deck, and leaning over a railing she tried to dust the remainder of the flour from her hair. The moons were high above the horizon and she marveled at them. They weren't nearly as large as portrayed in the games. Still they were beautiful, and so different from the single orb she was accustomed to seeing. She was enjoying the sea air when the man she'd met earlier made an appearance. He was a balding human with a fair number of teeth missing. From his sallow complexion she wouldn't have been surprised to learn he had scurvy, or liver damage. She was surprised when he leaned against the rail and spoke to her as though they were old friends.

"Ne'er seen ye at the docks 'afore." he said rubbing his chin stubble with one hand. "Turrik, he be havin' a soft spot for youn' lads. Be watchin' your back side if'n I was ye." He chuckled darkly at the flash of her horrified expression when she realized what he was implying. "Just a rumor boy. They say thas why 'e slit the last one's throat. Course Turrik says otherwise, but 'e would ... wouldn't 'e. And ye wasn't wit us when we put ta port." Luna just grunted in response, hoping the man would go away.

_Just when I thought I was getting used to how horrible Thedas could be._

The man leaned in conspiratorially, his eyes flashing with something malicious. "How's about I saves ye the trouble of workin' for him when we gets ta the next port. Ye helped him wit all dem bags. I has it from reliable sources, there's somewhat hidden in dem packs, make both of us rich." He nudged her with an elbow and winked.

She glared at the offending arm, and bared her teeth at the foul man. "Why would I help you with anything?" She grimaced internally as her obvious accent bled through, and started to walk away. He grabbed her arm roughly, spinning her to face him.

The man glanced around, as if to be sure no one had picked up on their conversation. "I'm just havin' a friendly chat boy. Ye should be grateful I even let ye stay on the boat. Cap'n didna say nothin' bout a new cabin boy for Turrik." Suddenly Luna found herself pressed against the rail with her back to the sea. Rupert grabbed her collar roughly, and dangled her torso over the side of the ship.

" **Shit!** " she cried out reflexively.

The press of a dagger to her belly made her cease her struggling immediately, as she slowly tried reaching for her own. "Ye ain't got no ties to the dwarf. I want ye ta open the chest, and bring me a small brown package from inside. Or ye'll wake up with a new hole."

Releasing her, as quickly as it had begun, he slapped her on the back, in a friendly gesture completely at odds with his earlier behavior. She glanced around at the other sailors, and saw several of them had actually been watching the entire exchange. They turned back to their work, not meeting her eyes, and pretended she wasn't there. Rupert gave her a nod, and a knowing smile, and began to stalk away.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I can't take on the entire crew. Even if I could I don't know how to sail, and that would be a long swim._

Before she could stop herself, she was asking, "Where IS this ship headed?" She wasn't surprised to hear how calm she sounded, but he must have been. Rupert guffawed in disbelief, whether at her audacity, or at the question itself she wasn't sure.

"Dun ye know? Who boards a ship 'thout knowing where it's goin?"

"Just answer the question."

He folded his arms, considering, then waved his hand dismissively. Continuing across the deck he yelled back to her, "Welcome aboard lad. We be headed to Kirkwall. Pray ye reach it alive."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> laitho : **load/carry burden**  
> 
> 
> mearcian : **pointing out**  
> 
> 
> daegans : **concealed/stowaway**  
> 
> 
> doelan : **agreement**


	9. BURN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna disliked being threatened. She should probably have gotten used to it by now. Something about her stature seemed to bring out bullies in droves. They saw her, and assumed she was an easy target. She'd spent a lifetime correcting that assumption. As as child she'd used her fists, as an adult harsh language, and then her fists. Suddenly landing in an alternate dimension wasn't going to stop that any time soon apparently.

_It doesn't help that you have a baby face all over again. Urggh, what the hell do I need to do to catch a fucking break?!_

She was currently swabbing the deck, she hadn't known what swabbing even was. Turrik had volunteered her for the job, telling her that it built character for any worthy sea traveler. She secretly wondered if he'd just pawned the job off on her to save on the cost of having her along. She'd argued that they're deal hadn't included said swabbing. The Captain hadn't looked impressed, and neither had Turrik.

Many in the crew had taken great joy in instructing her on proper swabbing technique. Half of it was total bullshit, a way to haze the new sailor no doubt. She calmly informed them that she wasn't interested in remaining a sailor and to knock it off. They'd mostly given up on getting a rise from her when she'd tripped one of them hard enough that they almost fell into the sea.

Groaning as she finished the last of the work, she spied Rupert in the rigging. Maybe she could have him accidentally fall to his death? It might be worth the extra work of cleaning up after. She even had a spell that would do the trick, accidents were easy. The problem was in not being caught using the magic that would cause the accident. They were also notoriously hard to target, someone else could be caught up in the spell instead.

That also wouldn't stop any of his buddies from trying the same thing. Who would expect the youth to ruthlessly rid the world of the man who'd threatened to kill him? When she glanced around she noted that some of them had were still keeping an eye on her.

_I don't know ... maybe pirates?_

He hadn't given her a specific deadline for the theft he wanted her to commit, but she had a feeling he didn't mean for it to take the entire journey. She'd considered telling Turrik about it, but wasn't sure if she trusted him any more than she trusted Rupert. He was obviously a smuggler, they all probably were. Why else leave Denerim like the Archdemon had appeared right on the docks?

_I couldn't pick the smugglers that actually liked each other. Those do exist right? Or maybe I'm thinking of Han Solo and friends. NoOoooooOo ... I get the stab happy ... dudes. Oh good one genius. Don't say that one out loud ... like ever._

The chest in question was locked. It was also stored in a private concealed portion of the hold, likely to hide goods from inspection. It was guarded by a gruff looking character who also seemed to be in Turrik or the Captain's employ. She really wasn't sure how she was going to get out of this short of having to kill someone. Was she becoming casual about murder? She realized that it bothered her that she wasn't more disturbed by taking another's life. Though, when in Thedas ...

_There does seem to be an awful lot of killing in the series doesn't there. I wonder if their Maker is actually an evil God, bent on torturing his creations. Well, there's no point worrying about it now. If its a choice between killing someone else, or letting them kill ME … that's an easy decision._

She still hadn't made up her mind the next night as she lay in her hammock. She'd worn blisters into her hands and was working some of the salve she had left over from Amaranthine into the worst of them. All of her choices were bad ones. There were bound to be pissed off pirates no matter what she decided to do. Turrik was busy ignoring her again, and she finally decided to just go with her gut. What was the worst that could happen?

"Ahem," she tried getting his attention but the old dwarf kept mumbling to himself. She tried clearing her throat, and got the same result. Eventually she resorted to calling his name loudly. "Turrik!"

He glanced up from his writing desk, calm as you please, and waited expectantly. She decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and quietly stared at him. "What?" He sounded even grumpier today than he had before they got on the ship. She hadn't thought that was possible.

Sitting up in the hammock, she turned to face him, and hopped to the floor. "Rupert asked me to steal from you." There was complete silence. Turrik wasn't blinking, and she wasn't backing down under his stare.

"Why'd ye tell me?" he asked, secreting the ledger away. "Not up to stealing it?" He said wearing a smug expression.

Luna actually snorted at that, making him pause, "No, could steal easy. Just don't like being threatened. You want me kill him?" Turrik looked like he was re-evaluating her, she didn't really know why she offered the latter. She just had the feeling a pirate ship might operate under prison rules, beat up the first guy, and the rest would leave her alone. She crossed her arms and matched his stare. "No seriously, you want me to kill him?"

"Not that I'm saying I do ... But what makes ye think ye can manage it. Or that ye could get away with it? Without the rest of the crew killing you that is."

"When he knows I won't steal it. He will attack me. I'll make him dead then."

Turrik shrugged. "Sounds like ye have a handle on it. I doubt anyone would fault ye killing him if he attacks ye first. Good luck with that." Rolling his eyes he climbed into his hammock.

"So helpful. Your stuff you know."

"Tell you what kid. Ye survive till tomorrow night, and I'll actually pay ye when we reach Kirkwall."

"How much?"

The dwarf scoffed, "I'll pay ye Rupert's share."

"How much?" she insisted.

He hesitated before speaking again, as though he needed to consider something. "Three Sovereigns ... after delivery is made. Now shut up. I'm trying to sleep."

_Holy shit, three gold?! I've never even seen a gold piece yet. That could feed me for at least a month!_

"You JUST get in the hammock." She flailed her hand in his general direction.

"Details."

She really needed confirmation on one thing that was still nagging at her. "He also says you like little boys,” she said raising an eyebrow curiously, waiting to see if he caught her drift.

At this news the smirk fell away from the dwarf's face and he grumbled, "He better hope ye kill him. I knew those rumors were coming from 'im. Now that's just downright unfriendly." He tsked, sounding like a disappointed grandfather. It was uncanny.

"So it's not true?" she asked hopefully.

"NO IT'S NOT TRUE! Probably how he got my last hire to try killing me." Turrik went silent, the only sound his wheezing breath.

_Has he seriously just fallen asleep?!_

She listened to his breathing for a few minutes to be sure, and realized he really had. Turrik was odd, but she felt she could grow to like the old bastard. If it didn't turn out to be an act that is. Her time in Thedas had been turning her thoughts dark of late. It was heartening to see someone who hadn't lost their sense of humor, even in the face of a life so bleak. Gripping her dagger tightly she lay back in her hammock. She passed into her dreams to the swaying of the ship and thoughts of the fight to come.

The next evening, after munching on some hardtack and a pickle, which the quartermaster had insisted they eat, she relaxed against a railing waiting for Rupert to make an appearance. She'd been sure to catch his eye several times, and refused to remove herself from the spot. There was an ulterior motive for her choice in sparring location, that would become all to clear to poor Rupert should he start anything.

It was her hope that she could get him to make such a stupid mistake. The last thing she needed was to spend the rest of her time waiting for an attack in the middle of the night. So she set her swab bucket next to her and waited.

He appeared by her side with a smirk, an hour later, as she turned to face him. "Ye wanted to talk? Ye got the package?"

She shook her head slowly, then made sure her voice was pitched to carry a little better, not hiding the attempt. "I won't steal for you. "

His gaze hardened and he pulled his dagger, pointing it at her. "We had a deal," he growled angrily.

"No, you threatened to kill me. I never agreed to anything." She laughed bitterly, then twisted the blade out of his hand. Flipping it over, she threw it at a nearby mast, burying it. It was a simple disarming move, one that she'd probably just invented here in Thedas. The rest was pure showmanship. He blinked in confusion, but that was quickly replaced by anger when she antagonized him again.

"Pathetic. Bested by a child. What kind of sailor are you?" They had a small audience, which is what she'd been hoping for. Rupert had no choice but to act, the question was only to what degree. He was losing face, and she was gambling that he needed his reputation intact. She needed him angry, and making stupid choices. "Steal from the crew or get knifed in the dark was it?" she said even louder. "I'm not afraid of a washed up old man."

He charged at her, and she acted without hesitation, flipping him to the deck. "I'll kill ye! Ye little liar!" This time he went for his sword, forcing her to dodge several wild, uncontrolled attacks. Tripping him up with some nearby coiled rope, she made sure it became hopelessly tangled around his legs, as she tightly knotted it. He staggered towards her, nearly cleaving her arm, as she darted out of the way. Then she kicked the bucket at him, and he was surprised to find himself covered ... in lamp oil. His face dawned with horror when she grabbed a nearby torch.

"Here catch!" she cried, throwing the torch directly at him. He was engulfed, and the crew sounded the alarm, as Rupert began to burn to death. The acrid stench of human flesh filled the air, sweet, and vaguely reminiscent of pork. He screamed for water just as the flames reached his face and he stumbled to and fro in a panic. Sailors frantically put out what was left of the fire on the deck, trailing Rupert.

Kicking him over the rail she commented with dark humor, "Here's your water!" The rope pulled along after him, and so did the heavy chain she'd tied it to. Everyone watched silently as Rupert was carried to the depths of the sea to drown. She walked over and retrieved the dagger she'd thrown and aimed it at the nearest of his compatriots. Several sailors backed away, with newfound respect, and some with fear in their eyes.

The more hardened of the crew advanced on her, and she drew her own dagger as well, prepared to kill again if necessary. The ring of steel removed from their sheaths hung in the air, and Luna licked her lips, trying to calm her nerves. This is where everything could backfire, and she'd likely join Rupert in the water. However, the approaching fight was interrupted by the loud clapping of the Captain and the laughter of Turrik.

"At ease boys. She's within her rights." There was surprise at her sudden change in gender though many took it in stride. She should have known she hadn't fooled them all.

"But Cap'n he's ... she's murdered Rupert! He's been part 'O the crew longer 'n any 'O us!" Said a burly man with an eye-patch.

"That's how I know him well enough to know he deserved it. You heard the lass. He tried to steal from us, and was likely going to use her as a scapegoat. I would have killed him anyway. Though not as creatively mind you. 'Sides girl's got spirit, would be a shame to waste her talent." He turned to Luna, and pointed at the scorched wood. "Although I'll have you clean up the mess you've made of my ship."

"Let me guess," she said rolling her eyes. "How much will this cost me?" She still hadn't lowered her daggers, and had no intention of being lulled into false security.

Turrik seemed unconcerned by this and waved away her protests. "Leave the girl be. If I hear of reprisals, be sure that I'll have it taken out of yer cut," he shouted.

"Cap'n ye can take the repairs outta Rupert's share." The Captain nodded at this and seemed pleased with the suggestion. When she frowned, and made to argue, he shook his head subtly and pulled her toward their mutual cabin. With her new status as a female, several of the crew made remarks about what they'd actually be doing. She grumbled in frustration.

"So, boy or girl? They still talk. Makes no sense."

"Pay it no mind. I'd rather they be talking nonsense, then be out fer blood." He bolted their door and settled into his hammock. "So ye'll be wonderin' why I offered yer payment." When she nodded, he continued. "Don't worry. The actual share is less than I told ye it was. Ye'll still get yer money. I'm a dwarf of my word, don't ye ferget it. Though ye've been less than truthful."

"Can you blame me? Boy safer than girl," she sighed. "So you'll pay from own stash?"

"I'm a business man first. I know good merchandise when I see it."

"I not property," she said her voice hardening, and eyes flashing with momentary anger. That had been one of her concerns since boarding this vessel, that it would secretly be headed to Tevinter. She would never be a slave, she would die first.

He noted her reaction with interest. "That's not what I meant. But I'll remember it." He paused and lifted his hand forward for her to shake. "So let's make it official. My name is Turrik, and I'm offering ye a chance to work for me. Ye've proven trustworthy, which is rare in our line of work. What's yer name?"

She leaned in close to the dwarf, and putting on a serious face, she growled, "I don't work for slavers. And I pick my jobs."

"How's about we run ye on a trial basis? I'll pay ye per job, not salary." He offered his hand again, wiggling the fingers for good measure, and waggling his eyebrows.

"How much," she asked sounding suspicious.

"Five silver per job."

At this she laughed derisively. "You pay me three Sovereigns just to sit by your stuff for this voyage. And risking my life in Kirkwall only worth five silver? Make it two Sovereigns."

He snorted as though he was insulted, "Ye haven't proven yer anywhere near that good yet."

She tried to object when he waved away her words continuing, "Let's call it one Sovereign per job."

“One Sovereign, fifty silver.”

“One Sovereign, twenty-five silver and one free test of your skill.”

By the look in his eyes, she knew the negotiating was over. "Done," she said and shook his offered hand. "Call me Luna." She was relieved, though she hoped she wasn't making it too obvious. "I work for you. For now."

Turrik's grip tightened on hers. "Sounds reasonable. Maybe when ye have the time ye'll tell me about that exotic accent of yers." He said this last bit with a wide grin.

"No."

Turrik frowned at this, and it probably only fueled his curiosity, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. He sat in his hammock and waited for her to say more. When she didn't oblige he snorted and rolled over as though she had ceased to exist. Soon the cabin was filled with the sounds of snoring and she lay back in her own hammock. The next morning she poked the dwarf awake, impatient to know when they'd arrive. He glared at her threatening to cut of the offending finger.

"When we get to Kirkwall?"

"We should be there shortly, definitely before nightfall. Depends on how the winds have carried us. You woke me for this?" There was a very awkward silence, when they both started at the loud banging on his door. A deck hand was announcing that they were within sight of the city.

They walked out together and she gaped as she got her first view of the legendary City of Chains. Seeing the giant statues, or Twins of Kirkwall, even from this distance was a little intimidating. Nothing could prepare you for the sheer size of them when viewed in person. The chain net must be enormous, and she wondered how they'd engineered them to even lift it. Everything about the approach to the city screamed of despair and loss of hope. There was even an oppressive amount of black smog hovering above the black cliffs Kirkwall was named for.

She knew it was likely due to the fact that she knew a great deal more about Kirkwall, but drawing closer to the city felt familiar. It was similar to visiting a place you had frequented as a child, only to find the little changes since you'd last been there. The portrayals she'd seen of the approach was almost spot on. Denerim had been a labyrinth that bore little resemblance to the versions she'd seen on screen; the repairs having been well on their way. Kirkwall was different, the carvings were familiar, and no recent blight had changed the architecture.

_That's not smog._

That's when she realized that Kirkwall was in flames.

"Holy Shit."

 


	10. HOPE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

"Turn the ship now! We are not going anywhere near that dreadnought!" The captain refused to take the ship any closer. However he couldn't stop the forward momentum they had already achieved. The crew was desperately following his orders, trimming the sail, and trying to turn the ship. Unfortunately the approach was designed so there wasn't much room to maneuver. Luna saw where this was headed, and she had no intention of dying today.

_I don't remember there being a dreadnought …_

She could see the Qunari, killing everyone they came into contact with on the streets. The screaming was raising in volume, and she realized they had arrived just as they had launched their attack. The dreadnought didn't seemed to be manned by more than a skeleton crew, but was blocking entry to the docks. No ship was going to get past that.

Fires were spreading throughout each of the levels. They had probably been set by converts to the Qun. She really didn't want to be a part of this fight. Qunari were huge, and she was a very tiny woman in comparison. Even if she hadn't had her foreknowledge, it was obvious the fires had been deliberately set. Grabbing her pack she found Turrik still gaping at the city in shock.

"We're targets out here." She whispered, exuding far more calm than she actually felt. The crew had erupted into argument, panic was setting in, she wouldn't be able to save them all. She could however, save Turrik and the small packages secreted in his belongings. If she could get them into the city and survive, then he could still be a useful ally. "If you stay, dreadnought will destroy us." She half dragged Turrik to the hold while speaking to him. "We need get your goods. We only take what cannot sink us. Must swim."

"Abandon the ship? I've lost too much on this venture already!"

Cutting off his argument she shoved him towards the chests. "NO TIME! Qunari black powder kill us." When he just looked at her in confusion she tried again. "BOOM!"

That finally spurred the dwarf into action, and he rummaged out several small pouches and boxes, stuffing them into his shirt. When he looked at her expectantly she pulled him back on deck, and made her way to the railing opposite the Qunari's view.

Turrik tried to stop her, but she shook him off. "That's no summer festival ye're walking into lass. Even if we get ashore, they are slaughtering everyone!"

She smirked at the old dwarf. "Not walk. Swim." Grabbing him by the wrist she dove into the water dragging him in with her.

"Blast it all," he shouted, "I can't swi...!" The rest of his exclamation was silenced by the sea water closing over their heads. This was an unforeseen problem.

_Figures._

She should have realized his stumpy little legs wouldn't get much traction in the water, and she almost giggled out loud when she visualized him trying to dog paddle. She refrained from it as drowning was not a pleasant sensation. Pulling his arm over her shoulder she kicked furiously until their heads broke water. Between his gasping and sputtering for air, Turrik was spewing an endless litany of swears. It even sounded like he'd invented a few but she couldn't tell for sure, she was somewhat preoccupied trying to keep them afloat.

_We're never going to make it past them with his stupid screeching._

Twisting around she struck him on the side of the head, dazing him, and rendering him silent. She took her time, keeping close to the walls, and ducking under the water when necessary. Hopefully the dwarf was still alive after this escapade.

After successfully swimming past the large warship she turned to check on Turrik. He coughed, spitting up a large mouthful of water as he tried to breathe. When he could finally focus his eyes, he glared at her with murderous rage, until she gestured sharply at the dreadnought. Catching her meaning he snapped his mouth shut and clung to her for dear life.

Just as she found a secluded spot to pull them out of the water, she heard the deafening roar of its canons. She'd encountered the sound of gunpowder before at reenactments, fireworks displays, and through the barrel of a gun. This was the first time she'd been close enough to feel the pressure wave of such a large explosion as it slammed into them. She watched the pirate vessel splinter, throwing the bodies of unfortunate sailors into the water. If they were lucky, they were still alive.

A second volley had her clamping her hands over her ears. Turning away from the sinking vessel she pulled Turrik from the water as quietly as possible. Which meant the dwarf was complaining, and she struggled to pull him flailing onto the docks, while splashing a great deal of water over herself.

He glanced at the sinking remains of the ship, and nodded at her gratefully. Pausing for breath she scanned her surroundings as she tried to remember where the Qunari had set up their barricades. Avoiding them was her first priority, but she wasn't familiar enough with the city to know where she could stash her dwarf employer.

After shushing Turrik she hugged the side of a nearby building and headed toward what she hoped was safety. They were walking up a staircase next to what appeared to be wooden rails for moving boats down to the water. Unfortunately she miscalculated, and ran smack into two of their warriors as she rounded the corner.

_Are you KIDDING me!?!!_

It's one thing to see them on a screen when you're slaughtering them easily, but to have one barreling down on you, in the flesh, is quite a different experience. Their blood red vitaar, painted over glaring faces, made her scream internally. The Qunari were over seven feet tall, and their murderous intent, was overloading her sense of self preservation.

She hadn't expected them to be wearing so much armor, in hind sight it made sense. Running around half naked during combat was never a good idea, no matter how aesthetically pleasing. They each carried greatswords, one of which was currently trying to split her in two. Reacting with barely contained fear, she accelerated herself, narrowly dodging the enormous weapon swinging toward her head. Luckily the spell didn't immediately fade anymore, and she was able to continue evading the incoming blows. She didn't stop her cursing even as she dodged their ridiculously large swords.

Drawing her two daggers, she channeled her strength and threw a dagger hard enough to bury half the blade in his chestplate. Though the wound wouldn't kill him, the force of it knocked him to the ground. As he struggled to regain his feet, she turned to yell for her employer to take cover and found that he had already fled somewhere when she wasn't looking.

_Little bugger moves fast on dry land. Dammit that was the Templar dagger!_

Without wasting a moment, she scrambled up a nearby building while the second Qunari gaped, stunned that so small a creature could have downed one of his brethren with a simple dagger. He began yelling at her, in what she assumed was Qunlat, but she ignored him, instead focusing on pulling herself up onto the next balcony. It was difficult to get a grip as she was still dripping wet from her earlier swim.

As she crested the edge, the midday sun, cutting through the smoke of the burning city, blinded her. At that moment she felt a blade carve a path across her face scant inches from her left eye. Blood from the wound gushed over that side of her face further limiting her view. With one violent, reflexive, thrust she drove her dagger through the bottom of her assailant's jaw, and continued upward through the roof of his mouth. Quickly wiping the blood from her eye, with the back of her hand, she got a good look at who had attacked her.

A cold detachment fell over her as she realized that her foe had been an elf. It had been as easy as killing a deer while hunting. It disturbed her. Noticing he wore the Qunari insignia any guilt she may have felt vanished. Wasting no time, she relieved the corpse of a bow and quiver of arrows.

Frowning as she wiped more blood from her face, she tore some cloth from the elf's clothing and wrapped an impromptu bandage about her head. It wouldn't stop her cheek from bleeding, but would keep the blood out of her eye. She could still hear the enemy warriors beneath her growling out what she suspected were commands to kill her. Remaining crouched, she approached the edge of the balcony, and nocked an arrow. Steadying herself she sped her movement once again, then leaned over the railing and took aim.

Finding an unguarded portion of the wounded Qunari's neck, she loosed the arrow without hesitation, ending his life. Ducking back to safety, she immediately moved across the balcony, searching for anyone that may have been sneaking up on her. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to keep enhancing herself, but feared she wouldn't survive if she stopped. She could hear someone trying to climb up the building the same way she had, so she prepared another arrow.

She was surprised when the balcony door burst open and randomly shot the intruder without aiming. The arrow protruding from the Qunari's eye socket snapped when the brute fell forward with a loud crash. She frantically nocked another projectile, her heart hammering in her ears. Her increased speed allowed her to dodge the dagger thrown at her head. The Qunari met with the same fate as his brothers, and tumbled from the balcony he had only just managed to reach. She remained frozen in place, her limbs refusing to move, for several heartbeats wasting the last of her increased speed.

When it became clear she was in no more immediate danger she jumped on a stack of crates retrieving her dagger and climbed to the roof. She didn't see anyone else up here, and realized the buildings were built so closely together it made a relatively safe path. She took off at a sprint, heading toward what sounded like the heaviest of the fighting. At least, she was sprinting until the loose tiles began cascading off the roof, landing with loud pops in the streets below. She had forgotten that her footwraps were still very wet, and of course, lost traction.

Doing her best not to lose her footing she barely caught herself at the edge of one of the roofs. The angry sounding bursts of Qunlat made it obvious she'd been spotted and she swore when an arrow embedded itself where she had been only moments before. Running more carefully she avoided any further mishaps until coming to an alleyway too wide to cross. The roof was too exposed a position, but it gave her a clear view of the chaos below.

Luna debated simply staying hidden. She knew how the battle would end, and she could simply wait it out. Then she saw a little girl, wearing little more than rags, running through the thick of the raging battle below. The child couldn't have been more than ten years old, but she wasn't fleeing, she was pouring potions down the throats of wounded guards. She inexpertly dodged sword blows, hammers, and crossbow bolts as she attempted to pull soldiers to safety. After a successful run, she would turn and run straight back into hell, saving as many lives as she could. It was the bravest thing she had ever seen, and she was suddenly filled with shame. This wasn't a game, those were people dying down there.

Luna counted her remaining arrows, then dropped down to an archway above the melee. Nocking an arrow, she followed the child with her eyes, and determinedly shot anyone that raised a weapon at her. Five warriors fell beneath her steady aim, and for once she wasn't numb to the death she rained down. She was elated, finally she was doing something, and her heart filled with hope.

Working her way closer to the girl as she ran low on arrows, she redrew her dagger and fell upon the back of another attacker. She stabbed him repeatedly in the neck until he fell in a gurgling heap. Quickly, she grabbed the girl, and pulled her, and her latest patient, back to the friendly line. As the guards closed ranks behind them she paused, when she saw someone she recognized.

Guard Captain Aveline stood proudly amongst the guard, barking orders, covered in gore and blood. Luna stared at her, unable to reconcile the computer generated version she knew, and this living soldier. There was an aura of command about the woman, an unshakable sense that she knew exactly what she was doing, that seemed to catch hold of others. This is what authority looked like. Shaking herself, from her thoughts, Luna began bandaging the wounded man she'd been dragging and looked at the little girl.

She had light brown hair, her freckled face smudged with dirt and questionable fluids. Though her hair was escaping, it was tied into a ponytail, tendrils floating about her face, catching the light of the burning city, like a small halo. She rummaged through her multiple packs, pulling a vial and shoving it into Luna's hands. "Pour it in his mouth!" she ordered, and Luna complied, popping the cork and forcing the wounded guard to choke it down. He coughed, but color returned to his cheeks, as his breathing seemed to grow easier.

The girl turned to go, but Luna grabbed her arm before she ran off. "What's your name?" She didn't know why it mattered to her, she may never see the girl again, but she had to know.

Smiling as if she were humoring her, the girl squirmed out of Luna's grip and called back, "Hope!" before disappearing into the fray.

Luna stared after her, with her mouth agape, stunned at the coincidence. She smiled as she heard the voice of her husband in her head. The memory lending her strength and she stood up with newfound resolve.

_"There's no such thing as coincidence babe. Just the universe making plans it decided not to share with you."_

" **Easy for you to say** ," she muttered.

Out of all the ships she could have boarded, she'd chosen the one that brought her to Kirkwall. They had arrived just in time to witness the Qunari brutally murdering everyone. She couldn't ignore the timing, and burying her head in the sand wouldn't stop the world from turning. It might not change anything, everything would probably still go to shit, but at least she could die knowing she had tried to make things better.

Replacing her arrows, from the quiver of a fallen guard. Luna looked about the flaming city finally coming to a decision. The Viscount was in danger, and Hawke would soon confront the Arishok. She was done reacting, she had been sent to Thedas for a reason, she knew it in her bones. It didn't matter if she wasn't sure exactly what it was, nobody knew what the future held. That didn't stop people from living their lives, for better, or for worse. She was the exception to a lot of rules, and she wasn't going to let it go to waste while she cowered, afraid of the consequences.

Using what she remembered about the city layout she made her way towards the Viscount's keep. She stopped only to help dispatch pockets of Qunari that had made it past the main lines. The city was larger than she remembered, but the basic directions in her head still seemed to hold true. Retrieving the arrows she could along the way she made for the Chantry. She couldn't understand where all the Qunari were coming from. There must have been more in the Compound than she'd thought.

As she ascended the stairs into the courtyard she glimpsed her first Mages, since arriving in Thedas. Their auras glowed a rich electric blue, the color surging whenever they cast a spell. They swirled and were denser than the other auras she had encountered. She couldn't help but be impressed with their abilities. While different from her own, she had to admire their efficiency. Most of her skills involved affecting herself, or someone in very close proximity. Throwing projectiles that exploded would be a nice addition to her arsenal.

_I wonder if I could learn any of their magic. That would be interesting, lesson one, lightning to the FACE!_

They were accompanied by their Templar jailers and she couldn't help feeling a little crestfallen. Despite her curiosity she avoided them as much as possible, she didn't want to be near the Templars again just yet. She was certain Knight-Commander Meredith would be among them somewhere, and Knight-Captain Cullen was seriously damaged goods at the moment. The last thing she needed was to be anywhere near the Circle. Taking the stairs two at a time she avoided looking too closely at the Chantry or its guards.

As if her thoughts had summoned him Cullen came into view ahead of her leading a line of Templars in a full charge. Dodging out of the way before she could be trampled she ducked behind a merchant stall. Keeping to the shadows here would be impossible. It was pretty much a giant courtyard, with large steps leading toward Hightown and The Viscount's keep.

Taking as direct a route as possible, while avoiding Cullen's range of sight she darted between stalls, buildings, and back to open courtyard. She avoided the many small skirmishes that were taking place, unless it hampered her path, then stabbed or shot her way through, never pausing. The bulk of the Templars were having great difficulty taking down a Qunari Saarebas.

_Where's Hawke? Are they already in the Keep? What if the Viscount is already dead? This city is WAY bigger than advertised, I DEMAND A REFUND! Heh._

She was almost to the large stone staircase when, suddenly, there was an explosion of energy that washed towards her as the Templars raised their shields. They had successfully killed the Qunari Mage, but it had performed some kind of last strike before succumbing. The Mages threw up barriers to protect themselves, but she was struck from behind and caught completely unawares.

The power washed over her, but it felt wrong, as if it were out of focus. She was unable to absorb it and instead felt it pass through her, tugging at something deep within. Her insides felt bruised and stretched. The Qunari's death may have tainted the magic, or they simply may have been attuned to it differently. Whatever the reason she was struck fully by the blast, and it lifted her, casting her face forward toward the steps. The impact of her landing was violent enough to leave her dazed.

_OWWWW, son of a ... bones ... meet truck. I think I felt something crack that time._

She sat up groaning in pain, when a guantleted hand came into view, offering her assistance in standing. Taking it without thinking, she swallowed her surprise when she looked up into the amber eyes of the same Knight-Captain she had been trying to avoid. Her mind went blank, she didn't know what to do.

"Are you alright miss?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will only be posting twice a week after this chapter to give myself more time to write a buffer. If this changes I'll let you know. I hope you guys are enjoying the story, and as always I look forward to your feedback and comments. :)


	11. STAIRS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

"I asked if you are well," Cullen said giving her a cursory glance to check for any damage.

"Um ... Yes ... Thank You," she mumbled, trying to hide her accent.

He was very strong, almost lifting her off the ground by her arm, as she tried to regain her balance. He nodded distractedly, looking over the courtyard, assessing the combatants. "It would be best for you to head to the Chantry. We cannot guarantee the safety of the courtyard."

She wasn't surprised that he sounded slightly different than she'd grown accustomed to hearing in the games. This was especially true because of the language shift. He sounded Fereldan to her and therefore normal. That was where she'd learned to speak Common. His voice was still enough to make her want to curl up and purr though.

_Wait! That means I've been learning Common with an accent!_

_Um...yeah its called butchered common, you don't sound like them remember?_

_YEAH but someday I COULD!_

_Okay you've definitely lost your mind, you're arguing with yourself._

Luna dropped Cullen's hand like it had the plague and glanced around for some sort of escape. When she didn't readily find one she instead chose to ignore him and checked herself over for injury. Patting herself thoroughly she was relieved when she realized the cracking she'd felt earlier had been the arrows in her quiver.

She retrieved her bow and glanced around nervously to see if the Templars were taking any notice of her. Geoffery couldn't have gotten her description to them already could he? Amaranthine had been a port city as well. It was silly, she hadn't used any of her abilities in view of them, but she was still wary.

Discarding all but three of the arrows she chanced a peek at the looming Templar. Tall was an understatement, he wasn't as large as the Qunari, but he dwarfed her. The games had definitely gotten a few things about him wrong. She wondered If she would ever stop comparing everything and everyone to those blasted games.

Varric's nickname for him, Curly, made a lot more sense now. In place of the wavy ken doll look, his hair was a cropped blonde mass, of tightly curled and untamed strands. His trademark scar was absent, though his face had plenty of other signs of his struggles. He appeared older; his five o'clock shadow making him more ruggedly handsome.

_Wow, scruffy looks good on him. I'm never going to get used to this. They're just so … REAL … Ick ...I feel like a voyeur, I know too much about these people that I shouldn't._

She must have been staring for too long because he was scowling at her. "This is no place to wander alone right now. Surely you have family to care for you?" This was getting ridiculous, how many times was she going to be mistaken for a child? She glanced down at the damp green cloth she was still draped in. It WAS rather frumpy, concealing her true shape. That had been her intent when putting it on after all.

_Maybe I should wear bikini mail, or just go topless. I'm sure the fully developed breasts will come as a complete shock!_

Instead of snapping at the future Commander, she blinked at him a few times, then decided to nod. Playing the child or simpleton was becoming like second nature since her time in the Chantry. "Going up there," she said gesturing broadly in no specific direction.

Cullen nodded, probably assuming she would head to the Chantry as he had suggested. She didn't bother correcting him. He made to speak when one of his knights ran up to give him a status update. He turned to accept the report in a gesture so similar to scenes from Inquisition she had to fight to keep a smile from her face.

_Down woman, I don't think fangirling is going to help anything._

According to the ensuing discussion the Qunari seemed to be taking ground in Hightown, and had advanced on most of the streets that housed the nobles. They had taken advantage of the connecting tunnels in Darktown, bypassing much of the armed resistance. The Templars were coordinating with what remained of the Guard and preparing for a counterattack from the Chantry, which they still controlled with the bulk of their forces.

They seemed to have completely forgotten she was standing there, and she quietly chided Cullen in her head. She could have been a spy, and they were just casually discussing their battle plans right next to her. It was a good thing they hadn't registered that she had an accent, the last thing she needed right now was to be misidentified as part of the Qunari forces. This whole looking younger thing was going to come in handy it seemed.

Luna took the opportunity while he was distracted to grab her bow and skirted around the courtyard toward the stairs leading to Hightown. She would continue her search for Hawke there. If the Qunari had taken Hightown they were likely kidnapping the nobles and bringing them to the Keep. There was very little time left to prevent Meredith's rise to power.

If she could save the Viscount, then Meredith wouldn't have enough pull to execute the Mages indiscriminately. She would have to move her crazy at a much slower pace. It followed that she could do less damage overall then, and more of the oppressed Mages would have a chance at survival.

_You are going to die a horrible, horrible death, and it will be your own damn fault. Sticking your nose into the Mage rebellion is a STUPID idea … do you even know what you're going to say to Hawke and the others? … Nope, didn't think so._

She was upset to find that the main stairs between the districts of Kirkwall were ridiculously steep. They hadn't depicted that very well, and it made sense that they called the upper city Hightown now. Ascending the stairs, using her enhanced speed, she noticed that there didn't seem to be any fighting in the main street. The main market was devoid of any sign of life, stalls had been overturned, and blood coated much of the street.

Hightown was a giant maze of stone paved streets. It was so much larger than she'd expected, and the map in her head became useless. The only thing she recognized easily was the Red Lantern district, and that was because there were banners advertising it. She wasn't sure which of the large mansions belonged to Hawke, but the Viscount's Keep was easy enough to spot. It was the most prominent feature rising over the skyline.

As she worked her way toward the Keep she slowly began rebuilding the map in her head. She stopped when she heard fighting, distantly, and what sounded like explosions. There was also a great deal of roaring, laughter, and swearing; followed by angry Qunlat.

_Well I think I know what direction Hawke and company are in._

She increased her pace, weaving through the unfamiliar streets as she made for the Keep. Many of these streets were wide, likely to accommodate carts and horses. There must have been another way into Hightown she was unaware of. Very little of it was familiar. Although she noted small sections that could have been from cut scenes she remembered watching. She passed what looked like the Mansion Fenris squatted in, and stopped herself from gawping.

_Half the mansions look exactly the same, but this one seems a lot more run down._

She was startled when something struck her from the side, and she tumbled to the ground as she failed to escape. The hammer blow had been enough to wind her, and she was certain that she'd broken a rib. A large armored Qunari wielding a gigantic hammer charged her in a blind fury. She did a double take when she saw the glowing red aura surrounding him, and realized with a start just how scary the new aggressor was.

_REAVER_

There was no time to recover, or to even think. She scrambled out of the way just as the hammer crashed into the stone paving, shattering it. By some miracle she was able to cast **Accelerate** , and she stabbed the brute at the back of the knee, trying to sever the tendons.

Luna felt her nose break, when he punched her across the face in retaliation. She dove, barely dodging the blow intended for her skull. The Qunari roared at her spraying a mist of spittle and blood across her as she backed further out of his reach. She was outmatched, and she knew it. She ran.

Somehow the blood crazed Qunari was trailing just behind her. She was terrified, tearing through Hightown as fast as her legs could carry her, hoping to outpace him. The main staircase was just ahead, and she redoubled her efforts. His angry cursing spurring her on; she glanced back and saw that he was falling behind.

The staircase here was huge, adorned with large iron spikes on either side of the steep monstrosity. It was reminiscent of the staircase on the map from Dragon Age II , making the way to the Keep treacherous, as a plummet from its height would be fatal. Taking the steps two at a time, she charged ahead afraid to check if he still followed. She rolled aside with a shriek as a gigantic hammer flew through the air, grazing her shoulder as it landed with a heavy thud, cracking the stones ahead of her.

Stumbling back to her feet she readied her dagger, preparing herself with **Draconic Might.** The familiar emptiness was beginning to gnaw at her senses, her mana was running low. Without his hammer, she stood a better chance of surviving this encounter. She steadied herself, taking a stance, and focused on staying alive.

He barreled toward her, drawing his arm back preparing to bash her face in. Dodging the blow she slashed his arm, hoping to catch a vital artery. She hit her mark but the blade barely penetrated his thick skin; leaving only a lightly bleeding, shallow cut. The cheap dagger wasn't sharp enough, and had taken quite a beating already, dulling it further.

" **Son of a bitch!"**

She tried changing tactics, thrusting with the tip toward vital weak points while cursing the loss of her sharper Templar dagger. With her increased strength she might stand a chance at puncturing through the chinks in his armor, rather than slicing. She managed to give him several holes along his sides when things took a turn for the worse.

He backhanded her, flinging her backward through the air screaming. She felt her jaw dislocate, and struggled to keep herself from falling off the stairs as she skidded between two bars. Luna caught herself painfully with one arm, losing both her bow and her pirate dagger. They fell, disappearing into Lowtown far below.

_I officially hate stairs ..._

The fall, or the Reaver, would kill her at any moment. Unless she could cast a strong enough shield but she had never cast one in Thedas before. She had never been able to maintain them for long on Earth and had no way to determine if it'd be enough. Getting her other arm on the steps, she had pulled herself halfway back to safety, when he casually picked up his hammer. A feral grin spread across his face as he watched her fight to pull up.

_Cast it, cast it, cast it, cast ... SHIT!_

She closed her eyes as she pulled forth the dregs of her power, channeling it to reinforce her aura. There was a thunderous crash, and a flash of light, followed by the smell of singed flesh. Warily she opened her eyes and gasped as the Qunari crumpled into a heap of metal slag and charred leather. As she dragged herself up the remaining distance; she stared at the remains slightly horrified. Her shield had definitely never done anything like that before.

_Okay ... in Thedas ... Shield equals bug-zapper. That's ... good to know._

She was breathing heavily, and fought the dizziness that threatened to make her pass out. Her reserves were completely depleted, leaving her hollow and feeling weak. A normal person would have blacked out anyway from what she had to do next. However her lingering **Draconic Might** had the added bonus of increasing her endurance and pain threshold.

Before she could lose her nerve she forced her jaw back into alignment holding back a scream. Her escaping whimper was the only sign she gave of the agony it had caused. She rose unsteadily and trudged the final distance to the Viscount's Keep and was surprised to find the massive doors unguarded.

That didn't seem right, there should definitely have been City Guards if the invaders hadn't made it this far. If they HAD made it this far, wouldn't they have placed their own lookouts for the inevitable retaliation? There was a considerable amount of blood coating the landing and she feared that she was too late.

There was no one in the ante chamber. Blood stained the floors, but there were no bodies. She could hear the sound of combat coming from the throne room and quickly made her way inside. The doors were firmly shut and before the last of her strength faded, she shoved them open with a single forceful push.

Her eyes widened when she spied Hawke for the first time. She would recognize the man's dark hair and beard anywhere. He appeared to be the canonical Hawke shown in all the ads. The armor he wore helped her determine that he was a Mage, though she was fairly certain that wasn't common knowledge in Thedas. She had learned that Circle Mages wore specific robes, like uniforms. The ritual combat between Hawke and the Arishok came to a sudden standstill.

Angry Qunari faces turned to glare at her as the Arishok barked out an accusation. "You dare _**fulian**_ this challenge with treachery?" This was not going to be good.

Hawke looked at her in confusion before replying, "They're not with me," shaking his head in denial. Frowning he waved away the Arishok's concern saying, "It's just a child. Stop _**lagga**_ and fight me."

The Arishok pointed a huge clawed hand at her and sneered. His white hair settling around his impressive horns with his sudden movement. Luna's heart began to pound, she had used the last of her strength to open the door. "Prove it. Dispatch her or I will consider your challenge forfeit." Angry growls and snarling grew around them, as the Qunari forces prepared again for combat.

Luna looked at the companions, placing her hands at her sides. She wouldn't run, she hadn't the strength, but she wouldn't cower. She glared at them all in defiance.

Hawke paused, then looked to the sidelines, where his companions stood watching. Fenris gave a surreptitious shake of his head, his expression never shifting. Then Varric looked her in the eyes and said, "Sorry Kid." A heartbeat later she felt the impact of his crossbow bolt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fulian : **foul/desecrate**  
>  lagga : **slowing/stalling**


	12. GATHERING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Anders was at a loss. Hawke had stormed into the clinic covered in blood, as usual, but much of it appeared to be from the girl he carried in his arms. Removing the girl's bloodsoaked outer wrap, had revealed multiple injuries. As Hawke gently placed her on the bed, they explained that she had interrupted the duel between Hawke and the Arishok by singlehandedly flinging open the heavy Keep doors. Which considering her size should have been impossible.

It was obvious upon inspection that she'd been shot with Bianca, Varric's personalized crossbow. The custom bolt protruding from her chest was unmistakable. That and the guilt that was rolling off the dwarf in waves made it obvious who'd shot her. He'd had to fight Justice making an appearance and interrupting his attempt to heal her.

"What do you mean YOU shot her?"

Hawke interrupted anything Varric might have said. "It was the only way to finish my challenge with the Arishok. He would have turned his entire force against us. Defeating the Arishok was the only way to end the invasion quickly. We had no other options."

"So you shot her at the behest of the Qunari responsible for the injuries I've been attending to all day. Well that just makes this all much better, doesn't it."

Fenris took the opportunity to chime in. "It was the correct decision. Given the circumstances ... Abomination."

"So I take it you weren't able to catch Isabella?" Anders said ignoring the elf.

Hawke glowered at the mention of the pirate. "No, and she had better pray I never lay eyes on her again."

Already in healer mode, he tried to stem the bleeding. He was surprised, on removing the girl's tunic, that she was actually a grown woman, and was glad he'd made the others stand outside the room. He removed some kind of leather harness she had on, underneath her tunic, setting it aside. The bolt was easy enough to remove with her lying unconscious. However the extensive bruising of her ribs indicated she had probably broken at least one of them.

There were also several worrying injuries to her face that would likely scar. Her jawline was bruising badly, and he had to reset her nose. His bandaging, was what any village leech could provide, but she might yet survive. Varric had repeatedly claimed to have deliberately missed anything vital.

His next discovery was beyond frustrating. She simply wouldn't heal. The elfroot potions he'd forced her to swallow had barely slowed the bleeding, and giving her any more would be dangerous. It SHOULD have completely sealed the wound. Attempts at healing her by magic had ended in complete failure.

He'd already used two Lyrium potions, but to no avail. The energy bled away as if the spells were taking effect, but there was no visible improvement to her condition. It was as if the magic were dissipating or falling into an endless void. Hawke had been just as perplexed when he informed him, and had left with the others shortly after, promising to return in the morning.

After covering her to preserve her modesty he searched the woman's face and form making a thorough examination. She was neither Dwarf, Elf, Human, nor Qunari. She had short pointed ears, sharp elongated fangs, but no claws. She was too short to be a human or Qunari woman, and too tall and thin to be a dwarf. She was also wearing footwraps instead of shoes, which were favored by the elves.

The woman had skin the color of honey, and he wondered what color her eyes would be. He could easily have checked, but wanted to see them when she was awake. Even closed her eyes were fascinating, angled like Ser-Pounce-A-Lot's, and larger than any he'd seen on a human. Her long, jet black, hair was matted with blood and was braided in an elven fashion. Everything about her seemed to be a contradiction. He decided not to say anything to Hawke about it just yet.

Anders cleaned her wounds and applied an elfroot salve, though judging by her reaction to the potions, it may have done nothing to help. If she made it through the night without becoming feverish, her chances of survival were good. Just what had she been thinking when she charged into the Keep alone and injured? Varric had said he'd check with his contacts to see if anyone knew anything about her. Andraste willing, she would be awake soon, and could tell them herself.

* * * * * *

Luna felt like she had a tongue made of sandpaper or as if she had eaten a great deal of a large desert. The surface of her tongue literally cracked as she tried to move it, her dry lips tasting of blood as she parted them with a moan. She forced her eyes open, rubbing away the sleep seeds that had sealed them closed.

Someone had bandaged her wounds, but they felt like they were on fire, and her mind couldn't seem to focus on anything. Every inch of skin felt raw, any movement sending painful shivers through her. Her bones and joints ached, and her head was pounding with every beat of her heart.

_I have a fever, a bad one ..._

Her channels felt stretched and bloated, stabbing at her senses painfully. Checking to be sure she was alone, she sat up very carefully, and a wet washcloth fell from her head. She crossed her legs gingerly and probed her Reserves. Her suspicions were confirmed when she found they were very full. Someone must have been attempting to heal her, every spell recharging, then overcharging her mana pool.

She coughed and realized her entire body felt absolutely wrecked. Her face was a swollen mess, and she couldn't breathe out of her nose. Luna noticed she was only wearing a bandage for a top. The healer must have gotten quite the view. She felt her stomach flip as she realized her notebook had been removed. Looking around she deduced this was not a Chantry healing ward.

The rough hewn walls were clearly part of Darktown, the slums beneath the city of Kirkwall, explaining the overpowering stench. There was only one clinic in Darktown she was aware of. Her mysterious healer had to be Anders, ex-Warden, and possessed Mage. Still she didn't want to spend the next month recuperating in bed.

If she had been here for any length of time, someone had likely gone through her possessions. If they had found her books, how would she explain any of it? If only her mind would cooperate and let her think. She wasn't exactly sure how her next spell would behave, they kept having unexpected side effects, but it was a chance she had to take.

Closing her eyes she placed her hands atop the wound over her brow and channeled her mana. Working her way down, she cast **Healing Hands** , and cursed herself for not practicing the spell more often. It fizzled almost immediately to her great frustration. Taking a steadying breath she tried again, and this time the Sigil held steady.She was so absorbed in her work she didn't notice the soft intake of breath from Anders as he entered the room or the sound of the closing door.

Moving her hands down her body, she focused on the most injured portions of herself. It was slow going, taking fifteen minutes or more, and over half her power. She was sweaty and shaking by the time she was done, but the regeneration spell would run its course without her input now. She collapsed laying forward over her crossed legs, too weak to lift herself.

She was startled when she noticed a figure standing directly beside the bed. "Anders," she croaked when he came into her view, clearly having been there for a while. He was looking her over, as if she'd grown a second head, and flinched at the use of his name.

_SERIOUSLY! YOU JUST CALLED HIM BY HIS NAME WITHOUT AN INTRODUCTION!?_

A moment later the shocked expression on his face was wiped away and replaced by one of determination. "Here, let me help you." He reached under her arms, gently moving her into a sitting position, then handed her what looked like a cup of tea. Returning with a cup of his own he took a seat next to the bed and nursed it as though they were simply having a social call.

She sipped at her cup gingerly, and wasn't surprised that it tasted medicinal. It reminded her of the herbal medicines her mother had brewed at home. It smelled acrid, and doubtless had some sort of pain killer mixed in. Grimacing, she downed it in one huge gulp; better to get it out of the way.

Anders reached toward her as if to stop her, then looked at her with a wry smile. "I would have taken that a little more slowly. You've barely held anything down for the last three days. That's going to go straight to your head."

"Can't stand taste. Three days?" Anders was correct, she suddenly felt the whole world wobble as the drink began taking effect. Whatever had been in that tea was strong, and she fought the urge to throw it up. Staring at one particularly bloody stain on her bandaged chest, she deadpanned,"Varric shot me."

_And now you've mentioned Varric by name. Shit, did you just help him drug you!? Yeah ... just randomly drink whatever someone hands you, GREAT idea._

"Yes, so he ... informed me. You arrived here a little _**wyrsa**_ for wear." He paused, as if unsure how to proceed. "You're technique is not one I've witnessed before. I guess that answers my question about whether or not you are a Templar however."

Sighing, she set the empty cup down on the bed next to her. Avoiding answering his implied questions for as long as possible she decided to pose her own. She was afraid she knew the answer but hoped Anders was the only one privy to the information. "Why would you think I'm a Templar? And why didn't heal me already Feathers?" She felt a wave of euphoria wash through her, her mind becoming sluggish as the tea further affected her.

"Judging from your actions, I'd say you already have some idea ... Feathers? Really?" He was staring directly into her eyes and she fought the urge to look away.

"Yes ... Feathers. What poor bird were those plucked from?" she said pointing at his robes. He leaned closer to her, the corner of his mouth twitching. She caught his scent, herbs and something like ozone. Perhaps this was what Lyrium smelled like. She had the sudden desire to draw on Anders' aura and barely caught herself. "Is there something on my face?"

Smirking he said, "Bandages my lady. You have a great deal of bandages on that beautiful face."

She burst out laughing and immediately regretted it. The pain in her ribs was still intense, and she doubled over gasping. Anders moved to help her, and she held her hand up to stave him off. She suddenly noticed there was no one else in the room; she was in a private chamber. There should be only one private room in Anders' clinic.

Shaking, from the effort of sitting back up, she looked Anders in the eyes and gently removed the bandage from her head. Feeling for the dagger wound, she found it was nothing more than a tender, but definitely healing scar. Her other injuries proved to have closed as well, though the deeper wounds would still require time to fully regenerate.

"Did you know you're eyes are a most _**uzda**_ shade?" he asked still staring intently at her.

"So I've been told. They're **indigo**." She was the first to look away.

_Why is it so hard to think? That tea kicked in super fast, this can't be normal._

"I'll assume that means _**ynde**_ ,” he said leaning even closer as he inspected her injuries. "That's incredible. I've been trying to heal you and failing. Yet you manage to make more progress in ... Who are you?"

"You gave me your bed," she muttered, changing the subject again, though Anders frowned.

“And how do you know it's mine? You could be in anyone's bed.”

“It smells like you,” she said without thinking as he blinked at her in surprise. The entire room smelled like Anders in point of fact. She could almost track where he had been busying himself about the room. This was new. She shook her head, trying to clear it, though it did no good.

“I thought you might appreciate the privacy." He leaned back into his chair, sipping at his tea. Then, with a crooked smile, he lowered his voice, "You seem to have ... attributes, I'd rather not share with anyone just yet." She raised an eyebrow, and wondered if he'd really meant to phrase it that way.

_Its ANDERS, of course he meant for it to be innuendo. Is he FLIRTING with me!?_

She solemnly placed her hand over one of his with exaggerated care. Leaning closer she whispered, "I agree, I have no intention of sharing my attributes with anyone either... even if I am in their bed." How she managed to keep a straight face; she had no idea.

He choked on his tea, making a ridiculous face, just as Hawke made an entrance by slamming the door open. "Ah, good, you're awake! Don't kill our healer now. Without him who'd stitch the holes other people make in us? I can't sew, and I doubt Varric would do it for free. Dwarves can be so _**groedum**_." Varric was trailing just behind him and entered more quietly.

"I resent that Hawke,” he said walking closer to Luna. “What did you say to Blondie that's got him choking?" Varric asked with a grin.

She tried not to glare at the dwarf, she really did, but how else was someone supposed to react to seeing the person who'd shot them. He caught her glare and chuckled nervously. "No hard feelings I hope. You didn't give us much choice at the time."

"Choice?!" She was getting a little angrier now. "I walked into a room! I was fighting to protect the city!"

The three companions shared a glance, and Hawke looked at her apologetically. He sauntered over to the edge of the bed and sat facing her. "Yes, well, you did interrupt the _**Cempa**_ of Kirkwall as he dueled the Evil Qunari Arishok for the soul of the White City of Chains!" he said in a voice that was overly melodramatic.

Anders shook his head, " _ **Cempa**_ of Kirkwall? Are you serious? Just what we all needed. Hawke with an even larger head."

"Completely serious. They've already given him the title. I think it has a nice ring to it." Varric said casually eyeing Luna for any hint of danger. Luna snorted and folded her arms over her chest which the bandages barely covered. "By the way. It's not everyday I shoot a lovely lady, any chance I could get a name?"

"Fuck you dwarf," she growled not in a charitable mood. It probably would have been more intimidating if she hadn't been fighting to keep herself upright.

"I'll be honest, I expected you to at least throw something at me. You've got a right be a little angry." Varric said with a chuckle.

Sighing she said, “Oh, no. All is forgiven." Then maliciously she added, "I just hope you'll be as forgiving of ME ... when I return the favor.” At that Varric smirked, accepting the jibe. She narrowed her eyes at Varric, glaring until his smirk faded. Luna forced herself to calm down and gave the dwarf a tentative smile. He didn't look like he bought it, and she couldn't blame him. "Luna. I'm called Luna." She couldn't tell what any of them were thinking, the drug was inhibiting her second sight. She shrugged and tried to ignore the wavering walls and floor.

"Good to know. Luna, huh. I may know someone who's looking for you by the way." Varric said, noticeably relaxing and sending Hawke a glance.

"Luna, that's an interesting name." said Hawke.

Fenris began to mutter to himself. Clenching his wicked looking gauntlets into fists.

_**When did he even get here? I didn't even see him walk in! What was in that tea?!**_

" **Wha** ... What? When did YOU get here?" she stuttered. The room was distorting to a greater degree and she was having trouble focusing.

His stark white hair seemed to make his Lyrium tattoos stand out more against his tanned skin. The pinched, angry looking, expression on his elven face grew more troubled as she spoke. Luna was startled not only by his aggressive tone, but by how close he'd gotten to her without her noticing. He had seamlessly blended into the shadowed background, though he wasn't exactly dressed to be inconspicuous. His dark armor made him seem even more menacing with it's multiple pointed edges. So did the enormous sword, that seemed to dwarf him, strapped to his back.

"Your name means 'moon' in ancient Tevene." Fenris stared at her intently, clearly having taken a dislike to her.

"Oh, I didn't know that." She said blinking at him with what she hoped was a docile and completely nonthreatening appearance. It was the truth at least, she hadn't intended her name to be of Tevinter origin.

_**Shit, does that mean Latin is ancient Tevene?! None of the other languages carried over did they? Great, I've picked a name guaranteed to tick off the ex-slave. I'm cursed, that's what this is ... a ginormous 'Fuck You' from the multiverse.**_

"What dialect are you speaking? I have never heard its like, you are unintelligible. Are you another one of Danarius' spies come to bring me to my former master?" he asked, his eyes narrowing further as he raised his voice.

_**Oh crap have I been talking out loud?!**_

"Um, no?" was all she finally managed to squeak out in Common.

He didn't seem to believe her and began walking towards her in a threatening manner, his tattoos glowing as he approached. As the first wave of his power reached her she felt awash with a desire to touch him. She was startled when she felt a part of her mind reaching for him, and for the power he contained. Luna couldn't stop herself.

The energy pulsing around him began flowing toward her in glowing ripples. She panicked backing away from him, then fell off the bed in a tangle of sheets, dragging Hawke with her. The Champion let out a pained groan as she landed on top of him with all her weight.

They struggled with each other as they tried to stand, but she managed to back into the corner of the room. "No, please, stay away!" she cried. She didn't know what could happen if the elf managed to reach her. The tea apparently was making her anxious as well as stoned. Anders moved between them, readying his staff as Hawke stood, straightening his clothing.

The tendrils of light continued to float between them, reaching for her, swirling past Anders. He appeared to be completely unaffected by it, but as the energy touched her skin she felt it being absorbed into her. The effects of the tea slowly began to dissipate, and her vision suddenly came into perfect focus. It was as though she were gazing through a bright camera filter, and she wondered what it must look like to the others. Her heart began to beat faster, and she felt a sense of euphoria building. It felt amazing.

... _Annnnddd my eyes must be glowing. Fan-fucking-tastic._

Fenris grabbed his head as though in great pain and immediately stopped his advance. "What trickery is this?" he snarled, studying his tattoos and then Luna's face. He began to shake, his eyes glazing over as he stared at her, his breath coming heavily. "Of course she is another Mage. An Abomination? Was one in Kirkwall not enough?" Fenris spat angrily through clenched teeth. He drew the blade at his back, preparing to cut Anders down, in order to get at her.

"I'm not Abomination! Turn it off! Please!" She was genuinely afraid, but not for the reasons the others might assume. Draining the energies from Fenris might kill him, and she would never forgive herself. Even if he was being unreasonable, she'd expected that of Fenris, and so would probably forgive more rude behavior from him than would be deemed sane.

Anders glanced at her, then back at the angry elf, before coming to a decision. Taking a defensive posture and aiming the staff at Fenris he said, "She is my patient, and I won't have you threatening the injured in this place of healing. Back away now Fenris, or I will make you."

Luna expected Justice to make an appearance at any moment, and shook her head, bracing herself. That could have disastrous consequences, the effects of the tea had destroyed her control, though diminished, it was still in her system. What would happen in the presence of a manifested spirit? She forced herself to stand up and prepared to **Accelerate** past them all despite the risk of further injury to herself.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Hawke pushed his way between Anders and Fenris. He placed a hand on Fenris's arm and gently pulled him away while speaking to him quietly. The elf reluctantly complied, dimming the glow of the Lyrium, and retreating to the far side of the small room. The flow of power immediately stopped, and she took several deep breaths, trying to center herself. Her vision returned to normal and she expected the glow of her eyes had vanished as well.

He and Hawke began arguing in hushed voices as Anders helped Luna back into the bed. She and Anders never took their eyes off the elf for more than a moment, and only relaxed once Varric had led him away from the Clinic. Hawke walked over to her, still smiling like an idiot.

"Well, it seems I get to meet all the most fascinating people!" Hawke didn't seem disturbed by what had just happened in the slightest. "I have questions for you, but those will have to wait. I've promised Fenris that we'd murder a group of slavers on the coast today. They can be such a nuisance."

Luna raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing as he left. Anders bolted the door, then rummaged in a nearby storage chest. She was relieved when she saw him carrying her clothing. She had just finished pulling the tunic on when she saw that Anders was holding her set of notebooks with a grim expression. Opening the smaller notebook, he waved it at her to be sure he had her attention, clearing his throat. She saw that it was opened to a prominent sketch of his face.

"Now that we're alone ... "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wyrsa : **worse**  
>  uzda : **odd**  
>  ynde : **indigo**  
>  groedum : **greedy/covetous**  
>  Cempa : **Champion**


	13. FLASHBACK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna looked at the book he held with growing agitation, that was way too important for him to be flapping around like an unwanted porno magazine. Sighing in frustration, she watched him warily. "What do you want to know Anders?" she asked in an even tone.

"How do you know me? I've certainly never met you before."

She noted that he had his staff close at hand. Though he appeared calm, his knuckles had turned white, from gripping the notebook so tightly. Meeting his eyes she decided to be honest … mostly. "I came looking for help."

"Help?"

"I'm lost."

"You're lost."

"Is there an echo in here? Yes, Anders, I need help. Specifically I need a Mage's help. One that isn't held in a Circle. Honestly, Kirkwall wasn't my first choice."

"Who do you work for? I'm not the only face in here, and you've written in some form of code I've never seen. Have the Wardens sent you? Or the Antivan Crows?"

"Ugh, seriously?! Look, you saved my life. I owe you some answers ... but I have no reason to trust you. **Especially** now that I know you go through my belongings. And your friend just shoot me."

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head in denial. "No one knows of my presence here. I've taken every precaution. Yet you have a very detailed sketch of me in here." He paused a little bemused and said, "… Even got my nose right. Have you been following me?"

She snorted in disbelief. "Every precaution? You heal people in Darktown with magic. It was sure to grab someone's … attention. And that's my journal. Look I'm no threat to you, I really just need your help. My Common is ... really bad. I've only speaked it for about three months ... so pretty good yes?" She reached for the book with an open palm, but he pulled it away from her. Rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up in defeat she changed the subject again asking, "What kind of tea you give me. Made my head spin … made me dizzy."

He glanced at her warily saying, "It was just an herbal blend to promote healing, but I may have dropped in some milk of the poppy."

_OPIUM!!! HOLY SHIT. No wonder I was stoned out of my mind._

"That...is very strong." Her lip twitched as she tried not to laugh.

"I said you should have taken it slowly."

"Yes, after I already drank it!"

"And yet you seem _**uzdazan**_ unaffected now."

She sighed, Anders was a healer, of course he would be able to note the effects of a medication on a patient. "What Fenris gave me ... Made the dizzy go away."

Anders muttered to himself, "You mean the power you TOOK from him ... no wonder he was so angry." Turning his attention back to her he said, "You didn't draw from him in a fashion I'm familiar with."

"No, but I do be able to absorb magic as I'm sure you notice. I was afraid I would hurt Fenris if I touched him. That's why I need your help, my abilities ... work different from a Mage." She wasn't entirely sure she liked where this conversation was going. There had to be a way for her to get the book, and get the hell out of dodge if necessary. Fenris already wanted to kill her, and Anders didn't trust her. Not that she really blamed them. Then there was the fact that Varric had shot her in the chest.

"That's ... not possible. Magic can only be drawn from the Fade or Lyrium … Fenris's markings are Lyrium.”

"And yet, I cannot walk the Fade. Dreams not right. You know, I think I already have exact conversation with a Templar?"

"A Templar? What are you?!" Anders was becoming more upset the longer she spoke to him. Maybe she wasn't conveying something correctly, this was a new language after all.

"You aren't the first to ask ... The Templar did too, right before I spend next five days running for my life. Truthfully, I don't know what I am. I know I'm not a Mage in the same way you are. My people would call me a **Shaman**. Why don't you ask Justice, I was hoping he might know. Or have met someone like me before."

She waited expectantly, if Justice could answer some of her questions this entire disaster may have been worth it. Otherwise, she was going to have to wait until she could get a hold of another one of the mages on her list. She wasn't sure she was willing to wait another six or seven years.

Anders started at the mention of the spirit sharing his body. "You know far too much about me. Was Fenris right, are you an Abomination? Or a spy?" Anders paused as if thinking but then said, "No, Justice confirms you are possessed by no spirit. He ... he's refusing to manifest anywhere near you?"

"Huh, well, I didn't expect that. Maybe that's for the best though." She nibbled on her bottom lip as she leaned back in the bed. "Anders, I swear to you. I mean no harm. Please return my books." Looking up she found that he was awfully pale. He seemed like he might even do as she asked, then suddenly tucked the smaller book into his robe, and returned the larger to the chest, locking it.

"Ugh ... what do I need to do? What can I say,” she asked weakly, waving an arm in exasperation.

"I don't know ... I need to think ... and you need to recover. I'll _**torner**_ later, I expect you to still be here. I have a clinic to run."

"And you need my journal to do that?!"

"No, I need your book to keep you from leaving that bed."

"I'd take as proposition, but you not sound very fun just now.” Anders gave her an incredulous expression. “Great, so instead I'm prisoner." She said all this with a scowl and wrapped herself tightly in his blanket. If Justice wouldn't even talk to her what was the point. He handed her some kind of roll and instructed her to eat, then turned to leave. "Anders?"

He stopped, just as he unbolted and opened the door, turning back to her. "Yes?"

"Please ... I'll tell you everything I can, I promise. I'm sorry I make your life more complicated. I'm just ... lost." She had turned over to look at him dejectedly. "I'm tired of being hunted Anders. I'm tired of running ... I am always running. I just ... I thought Justice could ..." She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't do it. Instead she rolled back over and buried her head in the lumpy pillow.

"As you wish. I will hold my questions for now, but when you are fully recovered, I expect answers."

_Oh joy, won't that be fun._

He left the room, gently closing the door behind him. She could hear him preparing the clinic for the day's patients. She nibbled at the hard crusted bread, having little appetite, but managed to finish it. Though most of the effects of the tea had worn off, the excitement since she'd awakened was taking its toll. Anders was correct, she needed more rest.

Nothing had gone as she had hoped. The only people, she'd so far met in Thedas, that she had seriously considered telling the truth to, had betrayed her before they'd even had a chance to speak. It wasn't their fault, not really, and they had no way of knowing of the depth of her feelings for them all. She was only a stranger. How could she ever explain it to them now, with the threats, and mistrust that lay between them? The wounds were too fresh, literally in her case. Luna was at a loss, what was she going to do?

The next several days passed in a blur as she healed. She awoke only when Anders gave her broth or potions for the fever, after which she would drift back to sleep. During this time she would sporadically fade in and out of consciousness, and when darkness would overtake her, she would dream.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Run Flynn! Don't look back baby!" Her breath came hard, her heart beat drumming in her ears in a staccato rhythm. She pulled her son along behind her, his strength was failing, though he kept a brave face. She gripped the rifle tighter, trying to navigate the winding path in the growing dark. Her son's foot caught on a root, and he fell to the forest floor, dragging her with him.

They tumbled down a ridge, branches smacking her in the face, and leaves flying everywhere. She was exhausted, and her mind rebelled when she felt the sickening crack of bone against a jutting boulder.

She stifled her scream, Agents of 'The Shroud' were close behind them. The entire colony had been wiped out, taken by surprise, in a single night. She and Flynn had been returning from a day of hunting practice when they heard the screaming. Men, women, and children had been slaughtered indiscriminately in a hail of automatic gunfire. Both she and her son had immediately cast **Accelerate** taking to the woods. It had been more effective than usual; they ran further and faster than ever before. It had given them a head start in the hours long chase.

She could hear the baying of their enemy's trackers close behind them. Their mana reserves were dangerously low. They would have to make their last spells count. Flynn jumped to his feet quickly, and grabbed her hand, tugging it in an attempt to help her stand. His body mass wasn't up to the task, and she stumbled, unable to bear any weight on the broken leg. She handed her son the rifle. "You need to leave me." she whispered, near tears.

"Never," he replied, the steel in his eyes reminding her so much of his father. "I will NEVER leave you behind." Flynn whispered in anger, shaking his head vehemently, and shoved a small stick into her mouth for her to bite down on. He was relying on his training without hesitation. He was so brave, her son, and so unbelievably naive. How had she failed to see how much he'd grown in his twelve years? They had so little time.

"Flynn listen to me," she said urgently mumbling around the stick. He shook his head, already casting several Healing Spells as he set her leg. She grunted as the spell temporarily sealed the edges of the bone together, not healed, but enough to bear her weight. It shouldn't have been possible, but their spells seemed to be getting stronger. Perhaps a strength born of desperation. She'd take it.

He splinted her leg, tearing his shirt for bandaging, the baying of the hounds fast approaching. Helping her stand, they took off running again. She was in a great deal of pain, but she could ignore it, she needed to be able to keep up. The first hound charged over the ridge, knocking her to the ground as it tried to tear into her arm.

Suddenly a gunshot thundered in the forest, and the dog immediately died, a ghastly hole gaping from what remained of its head. Flynn's aim had been perfect, his hold on the rifle steady. "Run Mom, I've got this.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

On the fourth day after her initial awakening, the fever finally broke. Luna woke with a start, bracing against a panic attack, as she fought off the edges of the nightmare. Her son's voice still echoed in her mind, so determined to prove he wasn't afraid. She remembered fleeing into the forest, she remembered breaking her leg, but the details of the dream were fading the longer she was awake. She couldn't remember what had happened after the first dog was killed.

She started when she felt someone gently sitting her up in the bed. It was painful and she felt fresh tears on her face. Her throat was sore, and she had no doubt she had been crying out in her sleep. Tentatively opening her eyes, the light of several candles temporarily blinded her, and she saw Anders slowly come into focus at her side.

“Wait here,” he stated, then rose and left the room.

_Nah, I thought I'd run a marathon. What happened after he shot the dog?! Was that … that really happened, why can't I remember the rest of it? Gods ... what happened to us?_

A few moments later he returned carrying a small cup of broth. Returning to the chair at her side he held the broth up to her lips. “Drink,” he said and tilted the cup to allow a small amount of broth to flow into her mouth. Her stomach growled loudly as the smell of herbs hit her nose and she drank it down greedily.

She reached for the bowl, but her arms felt like lead, and she let them fall back to her lap. Anders made shushing noises and urged her to slow down. "That roll is all the _**heardr**_ food you've eaten in over a week, you'll make yourself sick." He pulled the half finished bowl away from her, and setting it aside, wiped the broth that had escaped with a small cloth.

"Thank you." she managed to say before a large belch escaped her and she stammered an apology.

He chuckled saying, "Don't worry yourself. It's something I expected. You've slept for a good number of days." He studied her for a moment before continuing, "The healing magics you _**fyllian**_ seem to take a large toll on you."

She let out a short burst of a laugh, which conveyed more exasperation than true mirth. Glancing at her leg, she lost herself in the memory of her son's healing spells. "Yes … I am actually very bad at it, my son was the healer in the family."

"You have a son?"

She stiffened, Anders was too easy to talk to, she hadn't even realized what she was saying. Luna was having difficulty remembering that they were not old friends. Hardening her resolve she spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "Yes ... I'd rather not speak of it."

He frowned, but when she didn't say anything more, nodded his acceptance. "Only what you are comfortable telling me Luna. I am in no position to judge you. Just know that I am willing to listen."

_Ummm … what's this now?_

She changed the subject. "I thought you said I only sleeps for three days?"

"Ah, no. I said you hadn't EATEN in three days. You managed to choke down the broths and tonics I gave you _**biforan**_. It's actually amazing that you woke at all. I could not bring down the fever _**biforan**_ you healed yourself. Hawke and I were sure you'd die in this bed."

She swallowed nervously saying, "Guess there be no way ... to get out of explaining that.”

He chuckled, "It does have me quite curious. I've never seen anything like it. If you don't tell me I'll have to get Varric to pester you for me." Leaning in closer he winked and whispered conspiratorially, "I tell you, it would be a fate worse than death. He never shuts up."

Luna couldn't help it. Her voice dripping with sarcasm she said, "No, please, the horror. Such cruelty." Readjusting herself in the bed she braced herself. She needed to tell him something, she just wasn't sure what.

He must have noted her change in demeanor because the next thing she knew he sat himself on the bed beside her. Taking one of her hands in a comforting gesture, he placed her journal in it. She took it, completely surprised. Anders was examining her face closely and must have seen her absolute shock.

"You're running from the Templars..." he said looking her in the eyes. He said it with a voice so full of understanding she didn't know how to react. She was surprised when he began rubbing her hand with his thumb. "I've thought about little else since we last spoke. Justice senses your life has been rather ... unjust." He was smiling, but the expression was at odds with the turmoil in his eyes. How could a smile be so filled with pain?

"Why? I've given you no reason to trust me." She said under her breath looking at him hopefully. This could be a trick, but surely they had their mistrust of Templars in common. Maybe it would be enough, at least for a start.

"Because I can see the burden you carry. It can't be feigned. The _**egesa**_ of fleeing for your life, of losses you can't bear to remember but are equally loathe to forget?" Anders patted her arm gently before withdrawing his hand. "It's something you learn to recognize when you live in a Circle. You need more rest. I'll be back to check on you, I hope you'll still be here when I do."

“What does _**egesa**_ mean?”

Anders seemed to have forgotten she had told him she was still learning common. His expression softened further, “To be afraid. The fear that settles in when you have nothing left.”

“Ah … **desperation**.” With that he handed her the broth, got up, and left the room.

As she lay there clutching the journal to herself, wrapped in threadbare blankets, she considered leaving. Her gear was all here, one more healing spell and she could probably just walk out. She'd have to sneak past Anders, but that was hardly an obstacle. He didn't seem like he'd try to stop her from leaving now. She downed the rest of the broth then slowly made her way out of the bed.

She searched the room for something sharp, and picked the lock on the nearby chest. Her limbs were weak from staying abed for so long, but she managed. As expected she found her belongings and removed them to the bed.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there just staring at them. Eventually she put the smaller, world shattering, book in its harness and put it on. She tried to ignore the new bloodstains on the leather. That had been a close call, and Anders was still going to be a problem. It would probably be smarter if she destroyed the book, or threw it into the sea. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

When she had fallen asleep, she'd fully expected that her next conversation with Anders would be an interrogation. Instead he had returned the book, and seemed to be giving her time to confide in him on her own terms. If it was a tactic to gain her trust, then it was working. She was more inclined to confide in him now that he had shown a measure of faith in her.

_Great, so what are you going to tell him?_

_… I'm never washing this hand again ..._

_Ewww. That's ... NO that's absolutely GROSS!! Wash it immediately! It's the dark ages, who knows what he's had his hands in! Entrails … I bet he's touched entrails at least once._

Collecting her scattered thoughts was a lot harder than it should have been. Instead of packing, she listened to the muffled sounds of the busy clinic. She could hear Anders as he reassured the sick and injured.

Luna was pleasantly surprised when she could feel him using his mana to heal. Sitting up she settled into a meditation pose and took the time to heal herself again. Once the spell stabilized, she focused on using less mana and was relieved that breathing no longer pained her.

With her health much improved she looked to her possessions again. Removing the **Preservation** Sigil from her much larger sketchbook, she wrote down her options. Not that she really had many, it was maddening. Still unable to decide she began sketching.

Her first subject was Hawke and his wonderfully bearded face, as it had looked when she'd landed on top of him. She then moved on to Varric with that overconfident grin. She even drew Fenris, barreling down on her in anger and yet still terribly attractive. Before she knew it she was drawing Anders, capturing the lingering sadness of his smile.

Everything about her situation was a disaster. Art was simple, and familiar. Art was easy. She could stop thinking, plotting, and anticipating. None of that mattered. The feeling of charcoal on parchment calmed her, so for a time, Luna stopped worrying about the future.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uzdazan – **strangely**  
>  torner – **return**  
>  heardr - **solid**  
>  fyllian - **cast**  
>  biforan – **before**  
>  egasa – **desperation**  
> 


	14. BARFIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY 4th of July! Have an extra chapter! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna wasn't aware of how much time had passed, but her cramping hands and her protesting stomach suggested it had been quite a while. She couldn't hear anyone outside the door; the line of patients must have gone. Recasting the spell to protect the book from harm she admired her work. She had decided to take a stand while Kirkwall was burning, what kind of coward would she be if she fled from the opportunity to actually know these people?

 _I might be able to save Anders_ … _the Avvar might … but ..._

The implications made her thoughts scatter like leaves on the wind. Justice wasn't evil, but being tied to Anders was corrupting his purpose. Anders was losing the ability to control the urges of the corrupted Spirit. Justice was also reluctant to manifest around her … So what if she simply ensured she stayed around Anders, suppressing the Spirit until she could convince him to leave Kirkwall with her?

Quite frankly she couldn't blame either of them for being so angry. 'Would you stop Anders from blowing up the Chantry if you could?' It was a highly popular debate between fans on her world. There had never been any question in her mind, that the answer was no.

The Chantry reminded her of an amalgamation of old and new religions on Earth. Unfortunately the list of atrocities committed in the name of religion was staggering, 'The Shroud' being a prime example. Thedas' Chantry was just as guilty of committing abominable acts as anything humanity had done on Earth. She understood that what Anders finally did was an act of desperation, born of a lifetime of persecution and fear.

_There's that word again. Desperate. Seems like an apt description of the state of Thedas in general if you ask me._

She'd always felt that her people had in fact, asked the wrong question. The explosion NEEDED to happen, its what started the Mage Rebellion. The oppressed would always rise against their oppressors, all it required was a catalyst. If not Anders, then somewhen, somewhere else, another would rise up. However if left to anyone else it could also destroy the successful outcome of future events.

It was the collateral death of so many innocents that was the real issue. What she needed to do, was find a way to blow up the Chantry, while only killing the guilty party. Saving Anders was also a high priority, but how to do both?

_He's a good man. I mean seriously he set up a clinic in Darktown while on the run from the Templars AND the Wardens. Neither of them are really evil. Maybe I can stop them from doing something they'll both regret._

"That's amazing."

She screeched and accidentally backhanded Anders in the face, knocking him onto the floor, along with the tray of food and steaming tea, with a crash. "I am sooooo sorry."  Mortified and wide eyed, she leaned over the edge of the bed; sure that he'd be furious.

Instead she found him trying to contain his laughter, and as she smiled, he lost the battle and devolved into a fit of mirth. Bits of stew clung to the bed as tea dripped down the wall pooling on the floor around him. She joined in shortly and found that she was unable to stop. Every time she thought she had herself under control they would look at each other and start anew.

Varric chose that moment to come looking for her again, and found them like that, laughing like school children and unable to stop. "You're making me question you're sanity people," he stated while looking them both over.

This only had them laughing harder, every look from Varric causing more uncontrollable laughter. When she finally began to calm down she wiped the tears from her eyes saying, "Oh Gods, I haven't laughed like that in years." She smiled broadly, a real smile, and gave Anders a hand in standing up.

"Well, at least you seem to be feeling better. By the way, before Broody interrupted, I tried to tell you ... I may have run into someone looking for you,” Varric said with a smile.

"Would he be older, slightly shorter than you, irritable, and still owes me money?" The last bit she said with a grimace.

"That would describe Turrik to half of Kirkwall if most of his _**ghaban**_ hadn't just met with accidents with the Qunari. What surprises me is that he seems to WANT to pay you. That old dwarf is shiftier than loose barrels in a storm. So imagine my surprise when he comes looking for me so I can find his new associate, claiming she needs her payment."

“ _ **Ghaban**_ … people he needs to pay?” she asked looking at Anders.

“Still learning Common eh? That's different, never met anyone that couldn't speak trade tongue. You're making some kind of impression Kid.”

Luna rolled her eyes saying, "I'm not a child Varric. I'm older than I look." She liked Varric's accent, it was much easier for her to understand than whatever atrocity the pirates spoke.

“That's what every teenager says.”

“I will end you _**Durgen'len**_ ,” she grumbled.

Anders took time to eye Luna after her declaration before turning his attention back to the Varric. "And you couldn't wait to tell her this? I believe I made it clear she needed more time to heal. I can also assure you that she's ... fully grown." He said this with a cough. Luna hoped the blush creeping up her face wasn't noticeable in the dark room.

"Oh I did have an ulterior motive in coming here. I actually came to invite the both of you to the Hanged Man." Varric said with a smirk.

"She's in no condition to ..."

"She was just rolling around, laughing like a nug in shit. I'd say she's plenty healed for some booze, and cards. Besides, who wants to STAY in Darktown?" He said with a shudder.

"Anders apparently," she said raising an eyebrow. She crossed her arms and looked at the healer with mock anger. "Besides that SHE is right here. I'm fine, see? Trust me, if you'd seen half the shit I've endured in the last couple of months ... you'd force a drink on me."

Anders still looked unsure, but nodded reluctantly. "Well, if the lady insists. Booze and cards it is. But she must take it easy." He gave her a look she dubbed his 'angry doctor face.'

"Good." Varric said with a nod. He pulled Bianca from his back and strode out of the clinic expecting them to follow. "Now let's get out of here before it gets dark. That's when the crazies come out."

* * * * * *

The Hanged Man was worse than any dive bar she'd ever been to back on Earth. It was dingy, dark, and had the lingering smell of piss and vomit. It wasn't much better than Darktown honestly. Although that could have been the result of her strangely boosted sense of smell. She had been unprepared for the stench when she strode in. Anders had only shrugged, telling her she'd get used to it. How Varric could sleep here was a mystery to her.

Then again his rooms were far removed from the common room, and were fairly luxurious from what she remembered. She was surprised to find there didn't seem to be a minstrel. Luna was a little disappointed, maybe she really should try finding a lute.

She bought herself an ale, and something that was supposed to be food, and found a place to sit between Anders and Hawke. Eating what she could choke down of the stale bread and questionable cuts of meat she watched as they finished a hand of cards. Anders stole several bites from her plate when she declared she'd eaten more than enough of whatever it was. He confirmed it was nug and she was disappointed that it did not in fact taste like pork.

So much for bacon. She really, really, missed bacon. Actually she really missed a lot of things. Years of eating like an American had left her hopelessly addicted to variety. If she were honest, she would kill for a simple baked potato. She wasn't willing to contemplate what she'd be willing to do for a slice of pizza.

Yet most of all she missed music. Music permeated nearly every aspect of the modern world, and she had indulged in it daily. Now it had been months since she'd even held an instrument, let alone a cellphone filled with songs. She needed to distract herself, quickly.

"What are you playing?" She asked watching as Varric handed out cards to an increasingly less sullen Hawke. Someone needed to work on their poker face.

"Oh don't tell me you've never played Wicked Grace?" Varric obviously didn't believe her.

"Not much opportunity for cards where I was living," she said truthfully. Hawke gave her a weird look. "No, I've never played Wicked Grace before." She eyed the cards with genuine interest. At that moment Aveline strode into the bar wearing casual clothing instead of her armor. She ordered a drink and carried it towards them trailing Fenris behind her. They were arguing about his current living situation. Apparently squatting in Hightown in an abandoned mansion wasn't really legal, who would have thought?

Varric watched her closely as she took her first sip of the ale served at the Hanged Man. After the swill they'd had her drinking as a servant at the Chantry in Amaranthine, it wasn't so bad. "Well?" he prompted.

"Eh, I've had worse." she said taking another drink.

Hawke laughed taking another pull of his mug. "Ah, Varric, with such ringing endorsements, its a wonder there aren't more customers."

"Laugh it up Hawke. You're still drinking it." he said tilting back his own drink.

Anders grimaced and took another drink as well. "I shudder to think what you were forced to endure that THIS isn't the worst you've had."

She shrugged nonchalantly, watching as Varric began shuffling again. "Whatever happened to be donated to the Chantry. I tried not to think about it. It was drink that, or risk the water, and I'm sorry but I don't like the taste of dog piss."

Aveline grimaced as she too sipped at her ale, trying to catch Hawke's attention. She nodded to Luna saying, “It's good to see you finally awake. You were a great help when I saw you last.”

Luna blinked in astonishment. “You remember me?”

“Hard not to when you come flying off a roof raining death.” Luna didn't know what to say to that. The guard was a little terrifying up close, like some amazonian gladiator. A very attractive amazonian gladiator. She stared at Aveline , at a loss until Varric intervened.

_She is absolutely ... gorgeous … DONNIC she's supposed to marry Donnic, back off, she'd probably break you like a twig. Why is everyone in Thedas so damned ... HOT!? I feel like a lump of coal surrounded by diamonds ... well, there's no harm in LOOKING._

"Raining Death? And here I thought I was the writer Aveline,” he said grinning. Aveline rolled her eyes and went back to pestering Hawke. Turning back to Luna he said, “So you lived in a Chantry? From the sound of it, a Fereldan Chantry. Oh this I have to hear. Are you the forgotten love child of some Baron. Or maybe they found you shipwrecked, and a handsome Templar nursed you back to health. Oh, oh, I know. You were a Lay Sister, but secretly hiding from assassins. You fled in the dark of night when your past came back to haunt you. Though that doesn't explain your accent."

"I've never heard an accent quite like it before." Fenris observed as he strode up to the table.

_I really need to be more careful about what I say … Weird, that last one sounds an awful lot like what happened to Leliana._

Luna snorted, "Sorry Varric nothing so exciting. I was a servant. Unless you're into sweeping floors. Who am I to judge ..." The news seemed to deflate his enthusiasm, which had been her plan, and she silently congratulated herself. He would find the the truth far too fascinating. "So, all I had do, to get invitation to drink, was to let one of you shoot me. Who knew gaining good company would be so simple," she quipped sarcastically.

"You hear that Fenris, we're good company! Don't be shy, pull up a chair!" exclaimed Hawke loudly.

Fenris looked at her with what looked like a mixture of revulsion and mistrust. It shouldn't have bothered her, but the open hostility immediately dampened her mood. Others must have sensed it, because Anders moved to shield her from the elf and Varric cleared his throat nervously.

_Fenris hates my guts. Just my luck.  Maybe I really should just get up and leave while I'm still ahead.  
_

Aveline and Hawke were preoccupied once again, whispering to each other heatedly. She couldn't make out what was being said, but shortly the Captain downed her drink and angrily left the Tavern. “Just once Hawke I would appreciate you taking my job seriously.”

Swallowing thickly she braved talking to the broody elf.  "Fenris, look, I'm sorry. I know you don't trust me, and I don't blame you. If it would make you more comfortable I'll leave."

"What?! Absolutely not! Fenris we talked about this. Anders and I explained this to you. I can't have you trying to chase away every woman that tries to keep company with us! Think of my reputation! Besides that, you 'approved' of Isabella, and look where that got us." Hawke nudged the elf into the seat across from her, pouting at him.

"It was only the once, and I was very drunk ... And if memory serves, you were fairly free in your dealings with her as well." Fenris did not appear happy at the mention of the pirate.

Anders snorted, “That ONCE seems to have been enough for her to expound on your skill … at great length.”

Fenris glared at the healer while taking another drink. “It was … educational.”

Luna mulled over the fact that Isabella had taken off with the Tome of Koslun with a frown. The longer she was here the more she disapproved of the turn the timeline had taken. Isabella should have been redeemed, becoming a staunch ally. Her connection to Zevran made it only more meaningful in the long run.

Fenris seemed to be having some sort of inner turmoil as well, and his eyebrow had begun to twitch. "You've no need to leave on my account," he ground out with great effort, his eyes closed.

When he opened them again she was drawn in by his gaze and she opened her mouth without thinking. "You're eyes are really pretty ... green, pretty green. I mean they're really green. **Shit**." Luna felt a blush crawling up her face and to the tips of her ears. She attempted covering it by taking another drink. The others were attempting to smother their laughter, while Varric shook his head.

_Open mouth … insert foot. Oh Gods, maybe they'll just shoot me again. Quick! Talk about ANYTHING else._

"If Anders can refrain from DRUGGING me," she said elbowing the Healer. "I ... I'm sorry if I hurt you. I lost control. I'll make sure it won't happen again." She put as much sincerity in her voice as she could, she really didn't want Fenris to suffer because of anything she'd done. IF he would have allowed it she would have insisted Anders make sure he was still in good health.

"I told you to SIP it! Not finish it in one go," Anders exclaimed in frustration. She was so busy hiding her own embarrassment, and listening to Anders, she failed to notice the strange look Fenris was giving her.

She poked the Healer on the arm in frustration, "Yes, again, you only told me that AFTER I'd already downed the horrid brew."

Fenris glared at them. Just as he and Anders began to argue, she noticed a familiar face in the gloomy tavern. He spotted her at the same time, and she sighed when he waved her over. "Luna ma girl! Yer alaalliiveee! Come onnnn over, I've been looking all over for ye." Apparently her employer was a loud drunk, this was going to be a lot of fun, and by fun, she meant the opposite. She decided it was worth it, she needed to escape.

"I'll be right back. Gotta see a dwarf about my pay," she said. Taking her drink she joined the old dwarf at the bar as he clapped her on the back. "Got yerself a fewwww new memories carved into yer faccceee I see." He overcompensated while smacking her and nearly tumbled to the floor. She was too preoccupied to notice the scrutiny their conversation was receiving from multiple parties in the tavern. Hawke and the rest of his group seemed to pay particular attention.

She rolled her eyes, settling onto the bar stool, and hoping this wasn't going to take too much of her time. "What do you want Turrik? I'm actually trying to relax."

"Well that's gratitude for ye. I'm worryin' over ye, and ye can't give me a few moments o' yer time." The drunk dwarf actually looked put out. She became wary when it was quickly replaced with a wink and a grin, before he resumed his hurt expression.

"Piss off. You left me at the first sign of trouble. If you were so worried you should have visited me while I was abed." She glared at the him; she was really unhappy with how easily he'd abandoned her. Not that she was really surprised, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Yer, not my type ... besides I was protectin' both our invest ... insbestaments! And lucky thing I did to." He began sifting through his belt pouch, and slapped three Sovereigns down onto the bar, sliding them towards her. She stared at them in astonishment, then pocketing the coins she glanced around nervously.

_Just what the hell is Turrik doing?! You don't ever flash cash in a place like this!_

She groaned when a bald man, with too large a mustache for his face, grabbed Turrik by the collar. Luna recognized him as one of the pirates from the ship that had carried her here. "You said you didn't have my payment you slimy cheat!" The next thing she knew two of his crewmates joined in demanding money from the grumpy dwarf.

Luna wasn't as pleased as she thought she'd be to find some of them had survived. It was as if this entire scenario had been crafted for just this result. The thugs couldn't have asked for a better prompt than if someone had scripted it. Which, Luna was betting, was exactly as Turrik had intended it.

"Well?! What am I payin' ye for Luna!" Turrik yelled, smashing his mug across the head of the bald man. She was suddenly forced to defend herself against them.

"Turrik you conniving little shit!" she cried as she activated **Draconic Might** and threw her ale at the nearest attacker. She intercepted the incoming fist of one man, twisting it, and felt something snap as he fell screaming to the floor. Dodging the fist of his friend she knocked him unconscious with a swift downward stroke to his neck.

The next man tried to choke hold her, but she broke the hold and flipped the man through a table. She laughed checking on Turrik saying, "I've always wanted to do that." He had dispatched the bald man and was bashing another man's face into the bar repeatedly.

She suddenly had to dodge someone's thrown dagger, which sank into the bar stool beside her. Scanning the room for her attacker, she saw a female dwarf she'd previously overlooked, readying another blade. The brawl seemed to be growing larger, as patrons took advantage of the chaos to take down anyone they held a grudge against.

She noted that Hawke and the rest of the gang were still calmly playing cards. Varric did take the time to look up, long enough to yell out the odds on various combatants, including herself. Hawke was watching her with interest, though she was too busy beating the dwarf with the butt of her own dagger to pay him much notice.

The fight died down as she continued to beat the dwarf, but Luna only stopped hitting her when she stopped moving. Even that was only because of the deathly silence in the once boisterous tavern. Standing up, she kicked her once, spitting on her. "Don't fucking draw on me and miss," she yelled at the still form, though she'd really been informing the scum that frequented this place.

She'd have killed the woman outright, but looked to Turrik for instruction. Lifting the dwarf by the collar she pressed the dagger to the woman's neck. "Well?" she asked. At his nod, she drew the blade across the woman's throat.

Luna wasn't surprised to see that he was completely sober. Gesturing to the corpse at Luna's feet he said, "I think they'll get the message.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Common)  
>  ghaban : **creditors**
> 
> (Elvish)  
>  Durgen'len : **child of the stone**


	15. TROUBLE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna cleaned her bloody hand on the dead woman's tunic and strode towards the bar. She needed a stiff drink after that fiasco. Injured combatants slunk their way outside as best as they could, dragging their dead and wounded with them. Aveline strode in directly after they had left, and Luna realized this was why she had been arguing with Hawke.

The guard surveyed the room in disgust then threw a drink in the Champion's face. He had known what was going to happen. Hawke had known, and had left Luna to face them anyway. What … as a sort of test? Luna grew very angry, very quickly.

Aveline questioned several of the patrons as to what had happened, and predictably no one was forth coming. She pointedly avoided asking either Luna or Turrik anything, but Luna wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The angry Captain finally left after arresting a belligerent drunk that tried to attack her, and there seemed to be a collective sigh of relief.

No one else seemed interested in making trouble with herself or Turrik so she sat next to him and ordered a stronger drink. It tasted like battery acid and gasoline had made a baby. Swallowing with a grimace she aimed her new dagger at her dwarf employer saying, "Turrik, if you ever use me like that again. I'll fucking knife you myself." He just smiled smugly.

“I'd say that'll serve as the 'one free demonstration of yer skill.' Ye'll be swimming in work soon, mark my words.”

"Seriously, a little warning would have been nice."

Smirking he said, “I needed to see how ye reacted to surprises. Wouldn't do to hire someone who buckles."

She scoffed, "Bullshit. You got an **ample** demonstration when we ran into the Qunari. You remember ... when you abandoned me, after I save your life from a dreadnought?"

He mimed as though gasping in shock saying, "Well, as ye said, I abandoned ye. So I wasn't exactly around to see the rest of yer demonstration. Just be happy I stuck around this time, or we'd have had ta go fer a third.”

"Whatever ya damned pirate," Luna was too mentally exhausted for this shit. "Just let me know when you've got a job for me. And you owe me payment for tonight as well."

He grunted in response and nursed his drink seemingly lost in thought. “I know where ta find ye.”

Unsure whether he'd actually pay her for the impromptu melee she took the hint. Grabbing her drink she walked back to the Champion's table and noticed money exchanging hands. Luna glared, saying nothing, furious at them all.

She lost her temper, slamming her mug in front of Anders. Stabbing her dagger into the table, she pinned the small coin pouch intended for Varric. “Was I entertaining enough?” she hissed.

Luna couldn't believe it. They had known she would be attacked, and not only had they not bothered warning her, they had wagered on it. “You knew. You all knew I was about to be attacked, how could you?!”

Fenris watched her with what looked like grudging respect. She noted that he had been the only one not exchanging money. "You handled yourself better than I would have expected ... for a servant." Of course he was suspicious.

“If you hadn't I would have intervened.” Hawke said noting her angry expression. “You can't honestly expect us to believe … ”

“Damn right I was servant,” she growled, baring her fangs in her anger. “Scrubbing Chantry floors until hands were bleeded. Emptying chamber pots, spit on by noble brats. Wash and mend clothing with all the elves; more like slave, half starving ... ”

Hawk interrupted her saying, “You're a killer, born and bred. You are obviously well trained, surely escape was an option.” Fenris gave her a significant glance, he did not seem to agree with Hawke on that count.

“What should I have done? Attacked the Sisters and Templars? I was surrounded and alone. Many will use any excuse to abuse the servants.” She snorted derisively, shaking her head, “Servant … I was never PAID for work I was told do. And I was no allowed to leave, what would you call that?” Luna narrowed her eyes at the him, using all her will not to simply charge over the table and attack him. “You don't know me … get off your high horse … I know you're a Mage,” she stated flatly.

He hid it well, but she caught the surprise in his eyes at discovering that she knew of his abilities. “How … I stand corrected friend.”

“My only FRIEND in this Gods forsaken world, was raped to death by a thrice damned Templar. My husband DIED protecting our unborn son from a similar threat. Of course I've learned to kill, and I do so gladly. Leave me to die again, and I will show you just HOW gladly.” She turned to look directly at Fenris and said, “That includes you. You may not have gambled on the outcome, but you didn't warn me either.”

Fenris' only response was an unrepentant stare, his eyes never leaving hers.

Hawke looked taken aback, apparently this had not gone the way he had planned, but Luna didn't give a damn. In hindsight perhaps she shouldn't have bought the stronger drink. She decided to leave it on the table. Retrieving her dagger she made sure to grab the pouch of money. “For shooting me _**Durgen'len**_ ,”she spat angrily at Varric. Spinning on her heel, she headed for the exit. Anders called after her but she stormed out regardless.

The air outside the Hanged Man was far from fresh, but it was less stifling than inside. She found herself walking around the docks, hoping the sea breeze would clear her head. Her heart had just begun to calm when some unfortunate fool tried to mug her. The poor man felt the brunt of her building frustrations. He would live, but she doubted he would walk without a limp for at least a week. It only fueled her anger.

_Its really a good thing I'm not having to deal with demons. Pretty sure Rage would be having a field day with me._

Leaving him with a warning glimpse of her fangs, she picked her way across the city. The streets were still strewn with rubble, and she wandered the dark until she found herself in the Alienage. It was much larger than she had expected, and she soon lost herself in the winding alleys. The squalor did little to alleviate her heartache. After a time she found her way to a familiar commons, at the center of which grew an equally familiar looking tree.

It looked just as she remembered, except for one crucial detail. It was unbelievably huge. The tree was easily four to five times larger than she was expecting. The painted trunk making her appear small. It meant more to her now. Experience had a way of changing one's point of view. She still had no clue what it was called by the elves. They doubtless would avoid answering any of Luna's questions about it. Placing a hand on the trunk she leaned her forehead against the rough bark, and finally let her bitter tears fall.

Thedas was changing her. Where had her control gone? It was as though all of her emotions were raw, primal, and closer to the surface. She would never have beaten a man to death on Earth. She would never have brutally set a man aflame and then sent him to the depths of the sea to drown. She would never have casually slit a woman's throat in full view of witnesses.

Luna had killed in the past. However it had always been in self defense. There were lines she simply wouldn't have thought to cross back home. She stared at her hands through her tears. Blood was still caked between her nails. If this were a story, the main character would probably have imagined them freshly bloody and dripping. Perhaps they would even try to wash the never ending blood in a frenzy as their innocence shattered. She only felt hollow.

_What is WRONG with me? This isn't just compartmentalizing. Is it because I see them as lesser than myself? Am I still treating this like a video game?_

Her time here had her crying more than she had in the multitude of years since Marcus' death. Of course, she had never really come to terms with it. Flynn had constantly told her she was bad with feelings. Consumed by disappointment and a growing desolation she wept. She was unaware that someone observed her from the shadows.

Flynn had been born shortly after Marcus had passed, and she had endured it completely alone. She used to tease Flynn that he'd really been born in a barn in Alaska, or under a bridge in Texas. The latter one was a little closer to the truth. The forged birth certificates, and social security numbers had cost her a fortune. The black market dealers had simply assumed she was a desperate illegal alien. Given where she found herself now, it seemed doubly ironic.

_Did I die in that forest? Was coming here a reward? Or a punishment? Arrive in Thedas, adventure ensues, and I live happily ever after as the hero of the story. Only I don't feel like a fucking hero._

Leaning her back against the tree she began unbraiding her hair, carefully removing any offending tangles or knots. She slid down the tree until she was sitting, her knees hugged close to her chest. Massaging her scalp to relieve the ache, she began to hum. It was nothing specific at first, just a series of random notes.

Luna was lost in memory, re-braiding her long hair into a single thick braid down her back. She hummed quietly with no way to escape her own thoughts. Thedas was a horrific world, each new dawn awakening something dark inside her. She wasn't kidding herself though, she knew the darkness had always lurked just beneath the surface. Her family had been her anchor, and without them … Hawke was right, she was a born killer.

She saw it then, leaning against the roots several feet away, an extremely beat up lute. It appeared to be chained to the tree, having sat long enough that the roots had grown over the links. She picked it up carefully, noting that the high string was missing.

It was falling apart, and she wasn't even sure that it would play. Luna carefully tuned the poor thing. She stretched her fingers over the strings experimentally. They might snap at any moment, but for now they were holding. Tapping her foot she plucked the strings, letting her fingers remember the tune, and began to sing.

****[Black](https://open.spotify.com/track/2g6BvZlBNESRZKQkbXnTZh?si=lMMlt_fpQdSHqcZWewcP0w)** by : Kari Kimmel**

**When everythin' has turned to black**  
**You don't know where to go**  
**You need somethin' to justify your soul**  
**Silences are broken**  
**Confidence is gone**  
**When everythin' you're holdin' onto falls**

**(yeah)**

**All the people sellin' truths**  
**On every corner now**  
**They wait until the fear has knocked you down**  
**All the rules are changing now**  
**You're livin' in sin**  
**Everything around you's cavin' in**

 **And all you're holdin' onto's slippin'**  
**Like water through your hands...**

 **And you sing: lalalala, lalalala, lalalala la**  
**Yeah you sing : lalalala, lalalala, lalalala la**

 **Far off in the distance**  
**Somewhere you can't see**  
**Allegiances have formed your destiny**  
**Opposition all around**  
**Feeding off your soul**  
**Trying hard to swallow up your hope**

 **And demons all around you waiting**  
**For you to sell your soul**

 **They're singin': lalalala, lalalala, lalalala la.**  
**They're singin': lalalala, lalalala, lalalala la.**

As she finished the final notes, the sun began to rise over the horizon, bathing the gloomy city in pre-dawn's half-light. She was tired, but the music had helped to soothe something in her soul. It was good to hear music again. She gently set the lute back against the tree, silently thanking whoever had decided to leave it there.

Luna scanned her surroundings when she felt the telltale prickling sensation of being watched. The figure that had spied on her through the night vanished into the shadows before they could be spotted. She saw nothing, and shook her head, telling herself that she had imagined it. Several doors, that were slightly ajar, quietly shut as she rose dusting the dirt from her clothing.

_Probably just the elves wondering what I'm doing at their precious tree._

She wasn't angry anymore. All she had to do was survive. Take it one day at a time. Elves began to emerge from their homes, and she made herself scarce. Luna tried to remember the way back to Darktown, and walked with steadily growing confidence.

* * * * * *

A female elf with short dark hair, bearing a staff, emerged from her home and watched the stranger leave. She glanced up at the _**Vhenadahl**_ in bewilderment. It was as if the growth of the distant months of spring had been compressed into a single moment. The tree, which had seemed a drab and tired thing when she'd first arrived in Kirkwall, was now in full wondrous bloom.

She looked between the retreating figure and the now beautiful tree. Though she hadn't understood the words of the song, she knew old magics when she felt them. This merited investigating. She would need to ask Hawke for help.

* * * * * *

Kirkwall was coming alive, as early as it was, the light of the sun brilliantly announcing the dawn. Servants were running errands, and laborers left to their respective occupations. Merchants had begun moving their wares, preparing for a day of haggling and profit. Luns noticed that there were even a few cutpurses already weaving their way through the growing crowd. She easily avoided them and arrived at the clinic to find it locked.

She debated picking her way in, then decided that knocking first would be more polite. Anders answered, still wearing the same robes, and looked thoroughly disheveled. The mage groaned, rubbing his eyes to rid them of sleep, and beckoned for her to come in. He clutched his head, and grumbled something about knocking too loudly.

"Rough night?”

"I finished YOUR drink at Varric's urging. What was that wretched stuff. I feel as if some dark god is using my head as an anvil."

"Um, I didn't catch the name. **Barkeep** said something about it being found in the Qunari compound." She had no intention of taking it easy on Anders and laughed loudly.

"Please stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Laughing, it's making my head worse. Why aren't you suffering like I am?"

"Guess I have a higher tolerance than you do."

He groaned, slowly shuffling to a nearby cot. Apparently it was doing a number on him, and he appeared to be in a great deal of pain. He hadn't even bothered closing the door, which she made sure to. She frowned in concern, despite her earlier anger, and pulled a stool to sit next to him. Reaching for his face, he attempted to escape her gentle touch.

"Trust me Feathers." She whispered trying to project sympathy. Showing compassion wasn't her strong suit. She felt the pain of others, deeply, but offering comfort seemed to make her stumble. He still seemed ill at ease, but he allowed her to cradle his face, her fingers gently settling on his temples. Anders stilled when he felt her mana begin to flow to form her healing magic, but remained still through the entire process.

By the time she was done her hands were shaking. When she opened her eyes, the pained expression he'd been wearing was replaced by curiosity. "I've never felt anything like that before ..." he said quietly.

“What did it feel like?”

“Like … water pooling across my skin. Cool and … I don't have the words.”

“Is the headache better?" she asked. When he nodded, the hint of a smile danced across her lips, and she said, "Oh, good. I wasn't sure that would work."

"Well, that's not very reassuring."

"It wasn't meant to be,” she said impatiently. "I wouldn't drink anymore mystery drinks if I were you."

"That's sound advice. Luna … I regret my part in angering you last night."

“You mean the part where you knew I'd possibly get injured, and you decided to say nothing and WAGER on the outcome? Yet you still played the part of concerned Healer?” She ground her teeth, trying to remain calm.

Anders sighed, “I know you won't believe me, but Hawke can be extremely persuasive. He and Fenris are determined to find out if you pose a threat. I should never have agreed to it.” He grasped her hands in his looking at her pleadingly.

She snatched her hands away awkwardly, it felt far too intimate. Maybe she was reading too much into it, she didn't exactly know how to interact with people normally. Not that Thedas would give her much opportunity for that anyway. Clearing her throat, she stood and backed away. "Well, I hope you sleep better now. Um ... I'll just get my things and go …"

“That won't be necessary. You're more than welcome to stay another day.”

“Well … would you like me to use the … cot instead? I'm sure you'd like your bed back.”

"Oh, no. I would love to have you in my bed ... I mean on my bed. Andraste's knickers. Feel free to continue sleeping there. At least for tonight." Anders' seemed to be trying to smile but it came out more as a grimace with raised eyebrows.

She backed away slowly, "I'll ... keep that in mind ... um .... good night." With that she fled into the dark room and stood with her back to the door, thoroughly confused. She was blushing all over again and waited for her face to cool before crawling into the lumpy bed.

_This is stupid! He nearly got you killed today. You're acting like you've never been near anyone attractive! Its like … like … son of a bitch. It's like being a hormonal teenager … What if I don't just LOOK younger. What if I AM younger?! What's next zits?_

Still disturbed by the evening's events, it was hours before she could finally sleep. She missed her bed. Anders was being kind letting her use his, but it would never be able to compete with modern comforts. She tossed and turned, and instead of sleeping, replayed the day's events over and over again, second guessing every action.

_~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~_

Her dreams that night were vivid, feeling more real than when she was awake. Again she found herself in the forest, reliving the terror of fleeing for her life. Carrying her hunting rifle, she kept looking behind her for an enemy that never appeared. Her legs had refused to cooperate. It was as if she were trudging through molasses.

Surrounded by the screaming of her people, the dream filled her with overwhelming dread, and when she felt she could endure no more … the vision shattered. She took in her surroundings in a panic. There was nothing, not even the sense that she had a body. There was only black. A void.

_Flynn is alone. The others … they're all dead. Flynn is ALONE! How could I forget? I've left him all ALONE!_

She wasn't sure how long she floated aimlessly in the dark. There was nothing to gauge time with, the only company being her own panicked thoughts. Where was she? What was going on? This was different, but she wasn't sure she liked the change. There was no way to escape her building emotions. This couldn't be how she saw the Fade … could it?

_But … then … why am I lucid? Wait, Mages are lucid in the Fade right? They just can't affect anything unless they're a **Somniari**. But this isn't a dream, its just … NOTHING. Damnit all! None of this makes any sense! _

She felt, rather than saw, that someone was behind her. Luna spun around, trying to make out what it was. Piercing the darkness, three humanoid shapes wavered before her. Their auras were like nothing she had ever seen. Silver and spun gold, melded together, glimmering with a terrible beauty. It was as though she were glimpsing a dying sun through an inky shroud.

**YOU SURVIVED! WE HEAR YOU DAUGHTER OF OUR HEARTS!**

_~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~_

Luna was beyond relieved when she suddenly found herself awake. She was also annoyed to find herself being pelted in the face with something. Slowly opening one eye she groaned when she saw that it was Turrik, and he held more of the tiny projectiles. "What do you want, leave me alone you evil dwarf."

"Evil dwarf? Nevermind, wake up, ye've overslept."

"Who died and made you my boss.”

“Yer still alive, but technically? That would be ye.”

“Don't confuse the issue with the facts.”

“That doesn't make any sense girl.” Turrik threw her trousers at her. “Up ye get, we've got a job. Sooner ye save up yer coins, the sooner yer away from this dump.”

Nodding in agreement she quickly dressed and grabbed her dagger. “Where's the Warden?” Turrik hadn't apparently known that little tidbit about Anders.

“Warden? The Healer's a Warden? Well that explains why the Templars leave him be doesn't it. I'll be a skinned nug.”

“This job better be worth it, or I might be tempted to test that. I feel like shit. I could sleep for a week.”

“Ye've already been sleeping close to three of those.” Turrik eyed her clothing and her meager weapon with disgust and told her that their first stop would be the market. He had no intention of dying because she was inadequately geared. “It'll be coming out of yer pay mind ye. That be a problem?”

She shook her head in the negative. “Just point me in the right direction you sadist.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elvish)  
>  Durgen'len : **child of the stone**  
>  Vhenadahl : **Tree of the People**  
> 
> 
> (Tevene)   
>  Somniari : **Dreamer**  
>  **  
>  "BLACK" - by : Kari Kimmel https://open.spotify.com/track/2g6BvZlBNESRZKQkbXnTZh?si=lMMlt_fpQdSHqcZWewcP0w


	16. GALLOWS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

The wind was picking up and she nearly lost her footing. There was another storm coming, she could smell it in the air. The weather in Thedas seemed very unpredictable to her. Luna wondered if the moons had something to do with it. Or if the world was still unstable because of the unnatural Veil that had divided it.

_This is crazy._

Luna stood alone on top of a cliff staring out over the sea and took a pull from her wineskin. It was dangerous on the coast, especially alone, but she had no choice since her decision to avoid Hawke.

She was running perilously low on coin and a woman had to eat. Inflation due to the Qunari's failed attack on Kirkwall was reaching ridiculous proportions. It was really just price gouging of the refugees, but considering she wasn't locally born it amounted to the same for her.

That was what she was after all. True she was a refugee from Earth, and not Fereldan, but she doubted that mattered much to the citizens of Kirkwall. If anyone were to find out her true origin, she wasn't certain how long she'd live.

Luna had insisted on paying Anders for caring for her for the weeks of recovery after she'd been shot. He had told her it wasn't necessary, but she hated being indebted to anyone. Debt meant obligation, and she had never stayed anywhere long enough to justify that.

So far working for her old dwarf friend entailed standing beside him while he made drops. She had a bad feeling there would be a lot of waiting, followed by periods of extreme duress in her new line of work. Her compensation from Turrik for the last two weeks had come in the form of a new weapon and slightly used leather armor. She tried not to think about where the stains in the leather had come from. Thinking too much wouldn't help her right now.

It was necessary … she understood that, but she needed cash in a hurry. The smuggler assured her that the next few jobs would see her in silk undergarments. He had assured her of a lot lately, none of which had come into fruition.

She could always try pick pocketing, but she had no desire to steal from refugees. There was also the fact that Kirkwall had a highly competitive underworld and most of Hightown had been clearly staked out. Of course, technically she was now a part of that underworld, and couldn't afford to lose those connections either. If things got bad enough she'd consider making herself a target in Lowtown.

So instead she was alone on the coast, stumbling over the beach looking for signs of valuable plant-life. Tomwise had been eager to sell her the scroll detailing some of the more rare herbs that grew along the coast. Talking with him had been unsettling. He had seemed much more cheerful in the game. Of course that had been while speaking to his buddy Hawke. Still, critiquing the demeanor of a poison merchant wasn't high on her priorities list.

By some miracle her sack was nearly full of Embrium. She also had a small pouch full of Deathroot. The latter she intended to sell to Tomwise, but she wanted to take the other herbs to the merchant in the Gallows. The dwarves in the Hightown market were stingy and cruel. The Mages would probably give her a better price, and why not cut out the middle-man?

_Because the Mages are in the GALLOWS!_

_Nah, you don't say … Gallowsss …. GALLLOWWSS … nope doesn't ring a bell._

_You know, you can't fool me. I'm YOU. The GALLOWS. You know, the fortress island teeming with Templars who get their kinks by torturing the joy out of the world?_

_Shut it YOU! Not all the Templars are assholes. Geoffery is sweet and ... dammit._

Grimacing at the unpleasant reminder that he was no longer her friend she toed a loose stone into the sea far below. She scanned the rocky shore again and sighed in defeat. The only bit of Elfroot that hadn't been picked clean by previous scavengers lay over thirty feet below.

It grew lodged between two cracks in the cliff face; a small sandy patch that looked rather impossible to get to. She would have left it alone, but she was fairly certain that it was Royal Elfroot. There was enough of it that she should make a pretty penny with any herbalist in Kirkwall.

She looked at the small coil of rope with a grimace. It wasn't long enough for her to fully reach the plant if she tied it to the tree that grew nearby. None of the boulders close enough, would suffice either. Instead she was planning on using a trick she'd once seen on a National Geographic documentary.

_Like I pointed out before … crazy. I'm going to die with the words of some haughty British narrator assuring me that it should have worked just fine!_

Luna huffed in frustration and looked for a small angled rock to use as a wedge. Then found what she hoped was a suitable crack; one that wouldn't simply crumble under strain. Laying the rope over the crack, she proceeded to beat the living shit out of said rock with its brother, pinning the rope into place. She did this three more times along the crack, no way she was trusting just one rock with her life.

She was really glad she had some mana left for the next bit, rope climbing had been the bane of her existence in Gym class. Luckily her parents had taken her on a 'vacation' at an Army Ranger base as a child one summer. Repelling lessons had been thorough, hilarious, terrifying, and ultimately fun. 

_And now I can add useful to that list. Good thing they showed me how to use a rope without those convenient metal clips. I'm so getting rope burn by the end of the day._

Wrapping the rope between her legs the descent went rather smoothly. She was grateful that she was wearing leather pants. This would have been impossible in a skirt. Tying the rope off with a knot every boy-scout would be jealous of, she began to extract her prize. It turned out there were actually several of the plants tucked away here. 

As she plucked one of the leaves her enhanced sense of smell was suddenly hit by the sweet perfume of the magical plant. The rich earthy scent, tinged with a hint of pepper and cinnamon, nearly overwhelmed her. Exhaling through her nose, she was able to overcome the effect, and proceeded to harvest what she needed.

She only took a few leaves from each plant, so that they would continue to thrive. No one else seemed to have realized how to get to its location. So why throw away a resource for only a single payout? After she was done she used her strength enhancement, and pulled herself back up the rope, thanking every deity she could think of that she had the spell.

Considering her run of luck lately she half expected to have someone waiting at the top for her. Thankfully, there weren't any unpleasant surprises. Packing away her gear she looked towards Kirkwall with a sigh. 

_Great, now I have to get BACK._

* * * * * *

Cullen stood watching over the courtyard and Luna eyed him nervously. Perhaps he wouldn't remember her? It had been easier to enter the Gallows than she had thought it would be. Apparently most people avoided the island, and they didn't deem it necessary to police entry. 

_That's because it's a prison. No one breaks INTO a prison. Hrmmm …_

The fortress/prison was as she remembered it. Though a great deal more of the iron gates seemed to be closed. There were actually more merchants than she'd been expecting as well. It seemed like a proper market place, though most of the business seemed to be between the merchants themselves. The Templar presence was impossible to miss. She wondered if the atmosphere could be any more depressing. 

_Just, act like you belong here. Then they'll just … ignore me? Maybe?_

Trying to exude a confidence she didn't feel in the slightest she rounded a corner and looked about for the Herbalist. If memory served Solivintus would be somewhere to the left, standing beside one of the Tranquil. She was actually pretty proud of herself for remembering his name. It had only lodged in her memory because of how annoyed she'd been by the  Herbalist's Task quest-line. You basically had to steal from the Dalish to complete it.

Luna found him standing exactly where she thought he would be. She immediately recognized the Tranquil for what she was. Templar auras were masked, but they still had a signature she could recognize. Tranquility did something altogether horrifying in comparison. Hollow was too simple a word to describe what she was seeing.

There simply WAS no aura, it was as though something had simply scooped out what should have been there. It left a mark on the world, pulling at the edges of her magesight like a magnet. It took some effort for her to tear her eyes away from the woman.

Swallowing she approached Solivitus, giving a small bow of respect. It was only when he looked at her strangely that she realized she was automatically using Korean etiquette. The Tranquil was making her nervous, and she was losing focus. Covering her blunder with a smile she tried to greet him pleasantly.

“Greetings sir, I have it on some authority that you are in the business of Herbs?”

“I am in the business of Alchemical and Enchantment research, but Herbalism falls within my sphere. How may I help you today?”

“I happened upon a patch of Royal Elfroot while I was traversing the coast. I was wondering if you might be interested in purchasing some,” she said trying not to seem too eager. The merchant's eyes seemed to widen slightly at her declaration however, and she did a mental jig.

“How much were you able to procure?”

They haggled for a short while, but as they finished the transaction she let a genuine smile cross her face. She reached out to shake his hand as she left, and he returned the gesture with bemusement. She was in a fairly cheerful mood and began to hum to herself.

That's when Luna turned and noticed that the Tranquil was staring at her. The woman had an expression that shouldn't have been possible on the face of a Tranquil. She appeared to be completely distraught. Solivitus stopped what he was doing to observe them both, his eyes flicking between them in confusion.

“Umm,” she said backing away slightly. “Did you need something?” Suddenly the woman ran forward, knocking over the stand she was beside. Before Luna could register what was happening she found herself wrapped in a desperate embrace. She could hear weapons being drawn by the Templar guard behind her, but stood frozen, gazing aghast at the woman holding her.

She was sobbing, her croaking speech completely incoherent. Luna swallowed her horror. Tranquil COULD not FEEL. Their ties to the Fade were severed, cutting them off from their magic, and stripping them of their emotions. Luna considered it a barbaric, tortuous, ritual. 

The woman leaned back, allowing her to look into her face. Luna's eyes were immediately drawn to the Sunburst brand. If this had been Earth, the scarring would have been described as being across her 'Third Eye.' The woman's aura was flaring chaotically, whatever the woman was feeling must have been terrifying. 

* _ Please, I don't want it to go away! _ *****

Luna tensed in the woman's embrace as the singular thought invaded her mind. Their eyes met in that frantic moment and she was inundated with absolute despair. The woman was more than likely mad. She got the sense that it was like being locked in solitary confinement, screaming and clawing at the door of your own mind. All the while your body continued on, without your permission.

The Herbalist wrenched the Tranquil mage away from Luna. She saw a look of hope trace across his face before he schooled his expression. He looked at her, analyzing what he must have assumed was simply another poor refugee trying to survive in a city that didn't want her. Coming to the Gallows had been a monumental mistake, she needed to get out of here.

She could almost see the gears turning in his head as he made the connection between her presence and the Tranquil's out of character behavior. The only known cure was still a highly guarded secret, one that would help to launch the Mage rebellion. This Tranquil woman was not only reacting with emotion, she was reacting … to LUNA. 

Apparently you didn't just go around touching Mages in Thedas and she was suddenly grabbed roughly by the shoulder.

“HEY! That hurts you git!” She said rounding on the offending Templar.

“What are you two up to? Your business has concluded, leave.”

_THINK damn you THINK! Oh shit, come on, stop staring at them and SAY SOMETHING!_

“I was THANKING them.” Luna said taking a steadying breath and narrowed her eyes at the towering man. “Haven't you got anything better to do? Why don't you polish that SHINY armor of yours some more?” Luna fingered the pommel of her dagger. The implication was not lost on the Templar. Her armor had seen use, and his had not.

“I know my duty,” he said shoving her in the direction of the main courtyard. “You are far too familiar with our charges. Leave at once or … ”

“Or what recruit?” Cullen seemed to appear from nowhere. He stepped between them, glaring at the Templar and Luna quickly dropped her hand from her weapon.

_FUCK, FUCKITY, FUCK FUCK FUUUCCCKkk._

“Sir, this woman was … “

“She was being FRIENDLY,” Solivitus interrupted. "I was having a rather decent day until you went and mucked it up Stephan.” He gave Luna a glance she interpreted to mean that she should simply go with it. Whatever effect she had on the Tranquil seemed to be waning. The woman had returned to her stall and had begun tidying it like an automaton. 

Cullen looked Luna over and she fought the urge to fidget under his stare. The man wore authority like a cloak, it was more than a little imposing. “Trouble seems to follow you around like a beloved Mabari. Though given your recent company I should say, I'm not surprised.”

She looked at him in confusion stuttering, “Wha … what company?” Surely there weren't already rumors that she worked with Turrik.

He smirked at her, dismissing the recruit and gesturing for her to walk with him. His next statement took her by surprise, but also relieved her poor pounding heart. “Hawke. Guard Captain Aveline has mentioned you in passing. Her description was quite accurate, and I recognized you immediately.”

_You can do this. It's just like all of those big Military dinners full of pretentious Officer's wives. Smile, and pretend its a party … yeah, I can do this._

Luna gave a nervous chuckle. They were slowly approaching the entrance to the main courtyard and she felt exposed. There were too many places for her to be attacked from. “I doubt I'm worth remembering Knight-Captain.”

“On the contrary. I could not forget you. May I ask after your name? It would be rather rude to simply continue thinking of you as that 'dark haired woman from before'.”

Luna snorted. Cullen had a sense of humor, it was a pleasant surprise. “You plan on thinking of me often enough to need a name?” She gave a geniune chuckle as he began to get flustered.

“I hadn't meant … I meant no offense, I only meant that.. Makers Breath.” She watched him a little too closely to see if he would rub the back of his neck. He didn't, only shaking his head as he laughed at himself.

She took pity on the poor man, though she continued to laugh. “No offense was taken. Luna. I am called Luna. And what may I call you Knight-Captain? Or would you prefer I continue to call you by your rank?”

“If the opportunity arises that we are not conversing formally, I would prefer to be called Cullen milady.” They were nearly to the center of the courtyard, and began passing various merchant stalls. Cullen paused, and she turned to face him as he regained his composure. “I need to apologize , not only for the behavior of the recruit. I must apologize for mistaking you for a street urchin.”

“I'm not a Lady, Ser Cullen. Just Luna will do. I hold no titles. Besides, it's understandable, the city was … sort of … on fire.” 

_Oh, genius that, why do you turn into a bumbling idiot whenever you talk to these people!_ _Shame too, you were doing so well!_

“Was it? I hadn't realized.” Now he was smirking at her, and she held her breath. Thedas was going to kill her. How was she ever supposed to get anything accomplished when everyone around her was so effortlessly attractive!?

“Its not far from the truth. I AM currently rather homeless.” She tried to appear serious, but was sure the rising blush was completely ruining it.

The Templar frowned at that, not in anger, but what appeared to be concern. “I was under the impression that Ser Hawke was to ...”

“I want nothing from HAWKE,” Luna growled, startling Cullen. “Apologies. Despite what you may have been told the Champion and I do not currently get along. If you'll excuse me, I have appointments to keep. It was nice meeting you in a more official capacity Knight-Captain.” She turned, then walked away slowly, trying to maintain the illusion that she wasn't fleeing.

“As you say.” He stared after the strange girl as she beat a hasty retreat. Captain Aveline was correct, something was not quite right about her. The accent aside, her mannerisms spoke of experience. The cadence had been odd, but she obviously had been exposed to those of high rank. Yet, she seemed far too young to be so practiced. 

Her good health suggested a Noble upbringing, but her ability to adapt to a life among the poorest in Kirkwall made it unlikely. However her hair, the sheer length of that hair, should never have survived the harsh life of a peasant.  


Cullen was also certain, that had he not intervened, she would have made short work of Stephan. She not only carried herself with confidence, she had moved with the easy grace of a predator. He glanced back in the direction of the Tranquil who had embraced her. No, something about her did not sit well at all. “Luna … what an odd name.”

 


	17. SUCCOR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

The following evening Luna's purse was much heavier as she left Lady Elegant's table. There was an outbreak of something called 'Frostlung' in Lowtown. It sounded a lot like bronchitis based on the symptoms she'd gleaned from talking to the woman. The recent winter storms had cleared the smell of rot from much of Low/Darktown. She welcomed the fresh air, but the poorest had no sure way to heat their shanty homes, and had become sick with all manner of late winter illnesses.

Apparently chewing Embrium or drinking it as a tea was the preferred treatment and she walked away much richer. Lady Elegant would more than likely make at least twice that, but it made her smile thinking of all the families that would benefit. Yes it was at a cost, but the Herbalist didn't seem like the cut throat merchants of Hightown. She would keep the cost as low as possible, to help as many as she could afford to. Luna kept some of the Embrium for herself just in case.

_Good thing I buried the hatchet with Anders. I'll have to ask him what to look out for. I probably don't have immunity to most of the childhood diseases here. Unless … maybe that's why my recovery took so long._

The cold front would probably keep Kirkwall chilly for the next several weeks. The wind was biting, and Luna tightened the green cloth around herself to no avail. Every time she managed to get decently warm the wind would lift the edges of the wrap. She would shiver uncontrollably, tucking everything back into place, only to have the wind undo all her work. She was rounding the corner of a building when it whipped hard enough to lift her tunic as well.

That was the last straw, she was going to make a sweater. Her next stop was the local weaver. She wasn't surprised to find that they were not supplying any yarn. They only seemed to have cloth, leather, and very cheap thread for sale. Most of the cloth seemed to be of the hole patching variety. They were all of different sizes, and colors, obviously the cut offs from larger projects.

Luna took the time to speak with the weaver and learned that most people in Lowtown spun their own thread. Luckily the woman also supplied wool from some unnamed animal. Luna eyed the work area beside the crude loom the woman was using dubiously. With a very minor adjustment she could double the speed at which the woman worked, but she kept it to herself for now. She also noted that the woman was using a spinning wheel.

_Oh yeah … the miniature spinning wheel was a drop in_ _ Inquisition. _ _At least they're beyond using a drop spindle and distaff. Downside, I don't think I can afford to buy a spinning wheel with no place to put it._

Sighing in defeat she bought a needle, some thread and a bag of the cast off cloth. It would look funny, but she was going to make a scarf one way or another. She also planned on modifying her green wrap into something warmer. Luna reluctantly walked back into the bitter cold without the wool. 

Suddenly she had the strange feeling she was being watched and quickly scanned her surroundings. She saw nothing and huffed in frustration. On a hunch she switched to her second sight, and still saw nothing unusual. She didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

_I need to quit spazzing out. It's just the cold making me twitchy._

She'd been on edge since her strange conversation with the future Commander of the Inquisition. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had made some huge blunder and the Templars would soon come charging into Darktown to arrest her. The third time she found herself glancing over her shoulder she decided she needed a drink.

_And what was with the Tranquil grabbing me like that? Do they have meltdowns from time to time? Maybe the Rite isn't as stable as they want people to think. I mean otherwise the Tranquil Solution would kind of make sense … from a twisted, evil, sadistic point of view. Just make all the Mages into Tranquil. No runaways, no rebellion, just good little slaves … wow that went dark quick._

The Hanged Man was the only bar in Lowtown she was willing to relax in. The others seemed to serve drinks that were closer to vinegar, or had a chance of poisoning you. They also didn't water down the ale, and you couldn't beat the price. Clean water was still a luxury she couldn't afford in the city. Despite the stench she was no longer surprised that it was the preferred hangout.

Entering the dingy tavern she bought an ale and sat herself at a random table. She made sure her purchases stayed in line of sight. The patrons gave her a wide berth and she was grateful. The last thing she wanted today was to fight off an amorous drunk. She contemplated writing Geoffery to let him know she had left Fereldan as he had requested.

_And how would I even … wait, Varric has a way of sending letters. I bet he could even obfuscate the origin of the message through his little spy network. Would Geoffery even WANT to hear from me is the question. It might just get him in serious trouble._

She was halfway through her drink when she noticed someone dressed in Warden blue in the corner of the room. The clothing was filthy, but she'd recognize that color anywhere. The man had long matted blonde hair, and was desperately in need of a shave. He was thoroughly sauced, and though he wasn't yelling, she could hear bits of what he was mumbling. Luna felt her heart clench at the sight of him.

_Alistair. Oh Gods. I'm in the 9_ _th_ _circle of hell._

Luna tried to slow her breathing. She tried to calm herself. Despite everything she had been holding onto the hope that things would work themselves out. Seeing Alistair in this state was too much for her to simply accept. This was WRONG.

_It's … who the fuck was the WARDEN that chose this path? If that asshole is still alive I'm going to MURDER THEM. If they died killing the Archdemon ... I'm going to find their FUCKING corpse and DESECRATE IT!_

She forgot about her drink, instead she watched him with growing anxiety. He had been here for some time as there were empty bottles littering the table he sat at. He must have been a regular because everyone was simply ignoring him. She regretted not coming back sooner. Luna felt tears gathering at her eyes, and gruffly wiping at them, she steadfastly walked over to the broken man. He looked up at her through eyes bleary with drink.

“Hellllooo, my Lady. *hiccup* Whhhy'ss roomz spinn'en … Oh, you smeelll nicce.”

Luna looked down at him sternly as she repeatedly clenched her jaw. “Hello Alistair. You're quite a mess.”

“Do I KNOOOWSS *hiccup* you?”

“I know you're better than THIS ...” she said quietly gesturing at the strewn bottles. He looked absolutely horrible, and he smelled twice as bad.

The barkeep took notice of their conversation and chimed in rudely. “He owes me thirty silver, if he don't pay I'm callin' the guard.”

Gritting her teeth Luna fished out a Sovereign and tossed it at the hostile man. “Bullshit, he's not exactly drinking quality booze. That should more than cover it. We'll also be needing a room for a week at least. Do the math, send me the bill. Try to cheat me again and you'll have a new stain in here.” The barkeep paled as he recognized her. “If he comes back without me, don't serve him another drop.” 

“Works for me, I've had about enough of his HIGHNESS,” he said, voice full of derision.

_ FUCK IT. _

Luna grabbed the man's shirt, pulling him down roughly so their noses nearly touched. “THAT MAN, is Alistair Theirin. He's a hero of the Fifth Blight, one of only TWO ...” She held two fingers up, waving them in his face, blatantly using it as a crude gesture. “...Wardens to survive Loghain's betrayal. He saved the FUCKING WORLD and this is how it's repaid him. So you will keep your damned mouth shut, or I'll SEW it shut.” She threw him back towards the bar, and he barely caught himself.

He looked like he was going to piss his pants and started to stutter an apology, but Luna glared at him and he subsided. There were advantages to being known as an efficient murderess. Luna was so angry she was shaking with every breath. Turning back to the drunk Warden she hooked an arm under his, hoisting him with her shoulder, and helped him to stand. He was unbelievably heavy, even without his armor, and she had to cast  **Draconic Might** to keep from tumbling to the floor with him.

_ HONESTLY! What are you MADE OF? MARBLE?! _

“Whareee uuur we goinnnng pretty ladddyy?” As he spoke the alcohol in his breath hit her in a wave, causing an immediate contact buzz. She tried to imagine what a breathalyzer would show, but the image always ended with the machine exploding.

“I'm going to get you sober … and clean. You smell like a Mabari pen.” They stumbled towards one of the back rooms and she deposited him on the bed with a thud. He was definitely still in shape, perhaps he was still working as a Warden when not inebriated. He was already passed out when she left to purchase a bath for him.

She was almost to the commons when she remembered that Varric had a room here. If he was home he had likely heard every word she had been yelling. Approaching the closed door she gave several resounding knocks. The dwarf looked surprised to see her there, and his aura reflected that it was genuine.

“I need a favor.”

“That was fast. I was sure you'd ignore me for at least another month,” Varric said turning on his famous charm.

“I'm sure you were taking bets for that as well,” she said, canting a hip and crossing her arms.

Varric ushered her towards a comfortable armchair and handed her what smelled like scotch. She raised an eyebrow at him before taking a sip of what she assumed was an expensive drink. Pouring himself a glass he sat across from her with barely contained anticipation. His rooms were just as richly appointed as she remembered.

“So, let's hear it.”

“I need a letter sent to Arl Teagan, of Fereldan.”

“Andraste's Tits! Why are you sending letters to foreign nobility?!”

“That's my business  _**Durgen'len**. _ Can you send the letter or not?”

“Sure I can. But why not go through regular services, why ask me?”

“Because I don't want it traced obviously … Also because I don't actually know what constitutes regular services in Kirkwall.”

“And you assumed I could do this for you because?”

“Cut the shit Varric … “

“Interesting turn of phrase.”

Luna ignored his commentary, he was trying to distract her. It was a transparent attempt to endear her to him in the hopes she would let something slip. “You're family is part of the Merchant's Guild. There is no more sneaky or paranoid an organization than one that's based entirely on monetary gain. Call it an intuitive leap.”

“One that's paid off. Alright, I'll do this for you. On one condition.”

Luna sighed impatiently saying, “I assumed that would be the case. What do you want Varric?”

“Nothing unsavory, or extravagantly expensive. All I want … is for you to promise me that you'll tell me your story ... ” He looked at her expectantly.

“Done.” Luna said a little too quickly and reached forward to shake his hand. He took it in surprise.

_ Ah, poor Varric. Little do you realize that I am the Queen of Loopholes. The Duchess of half-truths, and Keeper of the Technicality. _

“Just like that?” he asked. She nodded, carefully schooling her expression from leaking her inner cackling. “Here I thought I'd have to get you roaring drunk first. I'm glad you're opening up.”

Changing the subject Luna stood to leave. “I'll be back with the letter in a couple of days.”

“Why so long from now? If you need a scribe I can more than handle it.” He paused, and she sensed his trepidation. “There's no shame in not knowing how to write.”

Luna laughed at this. “Varric, I'm capable of writing on my own. In several different languages in fact. But I'll consider your offer, this will be … delicate.” This didn't seem to surprise him, and she realized that it had been a test. He was prodding her to find out how honest she was being. Anders must have told him about the strange writing in her journals. Downing her drink she said, “I'm going to be staying in the Hanged Man for a few days.”

“I heard. News travels fast when alcohol and violence mix. And sound carries here. You know, rent here ... even in the worst of the rooms can add up. Sure you can afford it?”

“I'll manage. Thank you for your concern.”

She strode over to the door, Varric behind her, and paused when he cleared his throat. “Yes Varric?”

“So. This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain half-dead drunk you dragged from the room? Hero of the Fifth Blight you say? Is he your long lost brother? No, I bet he's an old lover. The one that got away?”

Luna just smiled at him in amusement. “All good theories Varric.”

“Hey, I believe I bargained for answers.”

“And you'll receive them, I promise. But right now I have places to be, and people to annoy.” She left instructions for the barkeep to follow exactly if Alistair woke before she returned ... along with the threat of bodily harm.  She had the beginnings of a plan. This timeline could kiss her ass, she intended to fix things.

* * * * * *

Tomwise had been more than happy to take the Deathroot off her hands. She wasn't too sure how she felt about supplying a poison. Luna consoled herself with the knowledge that he would simply have found a supply from elsewhere. On the upside he gave her a permanent discount on any scrolls or books he had in supply. She found an Alchemical text on minerals in Thedas, only paying half price.

_I think I just leveled up my merchant skill. Or would that be Charisma? Ehm, whatever._

She hurried her steps towards the Clinic and kept a wary eye out for anyone following her. Muggers had followed her back from a sale before, and she had been caught by surprise. She was never making that mistake again. There was also the matter of the Templars still. What if Cullen looked into her background, and found out what she had done in Amaranthine?

Luna used her magesight to peer into the Clinic and was disappointed to find Anders wasn't currently home. The Healer was more than likely off with Hawke somewhere. She decided she wasn't going to wait and picked the locks to let herself in. Shutting the door firmly behind her she began to pack away her belongings. Luna took special care with her books.

Anders was stubborn and had refused to take any rent money. So she located his supply chest. She placed a small bundle of her recently acquired herbs by the chest, and quickly penned a note with his nearby quill and ink. She was so focused she didn't hear the door open.

“Ahem.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin as she flailed her arms in the the direction of the intruder. Poor Hawke received a face full of black ink across his face. Anders was standing shortly behind him and began shaking from holding in his laughter. She stared at them for a beat, then lost her composure.

_Oh dear. That is going to stain his skin for at least a week._

Hawke pulled out a red handkerchief and began cleaning his face. Between laughs Luna managed to blurt out an apology at which point Anders started to snicker along with her. Walking to his work desk Anders noticed the neat bundle of herbs on the table immediately.

“Royal Elfroot? How did you afford this?!”

She turned to face him, neatly cutting Hawke from view. “I can't. However I am rather good at scrounging. I found several live plants while exploring a couple of days ago. And no, I won't tell you where, but I thought you might be able to make use of it. Also I need a favor, hence the note.”

Still cleaning his face Hawke's muffled voice asked, “I didn't realize you were lettered. How did you even get in here?”

“I picked the lock obviously,” she said walking into the main chamber and slinging her pack over her shoulder. She didn't want to accidentally leave anything behind.

Hawke had finished cleaning himself, though he still resembled a Dalmatian. He eyed her pack. “Do you break in here often?”

“I never know how long Anders will be gone. I needed my things. Don't worry, I don't plan on repeating it.” She made to leave the room and headed towards the exit. “Read the note please. If you decide to help me I'll be at the Hanged Man.”

Anders appeared to be upset at her sudden departure. He realized he was losing his roommate. “There's no need to rush out Luna. Do you even have anywhere to go?”

“I've imposed on you long enough Anders. I'll think of something. For now I've got a room.”

“I don't understand. Why are you so hurried?”

“Honestly? Multiple reasons. The most pressing of which is that I may have accidentally kicked a hornet's nest. Knight-Captain Cullen and I had a nice little chat in the Gallows earlier.”

“What in Andraste's name were you doing in the GALLOWS?!” Anders exclaimed in horror. “Did he threaten you? Hawke we cannot allow the Templars to take her!”

“Calm down Feathers, it was a polite conversation. Awkward, but polite. It's just … apparently Aveline has mentioned me to him. Cullen remembered meeting me during the Qunari invasion.”

“Aveline … I swear sometimes that woman has less brains than a wheel of cheese!” Anders was glaring at Hawke as if everything Aveline did were his fault.

“Well, I have no intention of telling any of you where I'll be living. No offense, but I rather enjoy freedom. The last thing I need is for the Templars to be well informed.” She pushed past Hawke, making a beeline for the door.

“Wait Luna.” Hawke said blocking her escape.

“Yes, Hawke?” she asked in exasperation.

“I'd like to apologize. I know it won't … I'm sorry.” Hawke looked at her hopefully. Maybe it was because she'd covered him in ink, but it was absolutely adorable.  She hadn't realized a pouting man with a beard could look so much like a lost puppy.

Luna looked him over slowly. Inwardly she relished the chance of actually getting along. Still, she didn't want him to do something to endanger her again. It didn't seem prudent to let him completely off the hook yet. “Sorry is a good place to start Hawke. I hope the ink washes.” She didn't glance back as she gave a short wave.

Stalking back to the Hanged Man she found a large washtub full of steaming water waiting in the room. The former Templar was still passed out. Grimacing in disgust, she began peeling the clothing from his body. Modesty be damned, he needed a fucking bath. At the moment Alistair was nothing more than a broken drunk, but, by the time she was through with him, he would be a King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elvish) Durgen'len : **child of the stone**


	18. WANT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

“YOU'RE GOING TO TEAR OFF MY SKIN WOMAN!”

“Quit BITCHING! I wouldn't have needed to scrub so hard if you hadn't been covered in a scaly layer of … actually I'm not sure WHAT that was …”

Alistair was currently hip deep in water that had already been changed twice. The first time it had been a deep, swirling, murky brown. He had awoken sober, cranky, and severely hung over. It probably didn't help that she'd dropped him into the water with no warning. The harsh soap and washcloth had not been enough to clear the grimy buildup. She had obtained some ground pumice sand and was currently using it to scrub his skin raw. Getting him back into the tub had involved her using her considerable strength and a lot of swearing.

“WHO ARE YOU?! OUCH! STOP THIS!”

In that moment Luna's mischievous nature reared its ugly head. She paused in her vigorous scrubbing, effecting a hurt expression, and let her arms go limp in the dirty water. Her bottom lip trembling, she looked him in his confused brown eyes. “Alistair … that isn't funny.”

“Look, my Lady. I appreciate what you're doing … inappropriate as this is. But I have no memory of ever meeting you!”

“Alistair I'm your WIFE!”

He froze, blinking in shock as the meaning of her words fully dawned on him. “MY WHAT?!”

Her eyes began to water with unshed tears. With a look of utter seriousness she said, “Come now. You weren't THAT drunk! Surely you remember proposing to me? Our rush to the Chantry? Waking the priest in the middle of the night? Sweet Andraste! You threatened the poor woman with bodily harm if she didn't marry us immediately!”

With each of her statements his face grew more pale, his jaw dropping further open, and his eyes bulging comically wide. Finally, she could no longer keep a straight face, and she exploded in laughter. Catching her breath, and between his enraged sputtering, she said, “Oh Gods, you should have seen your FACE!”

“You're INSANE.” She reached to continue scrubbing and he batted her hands away. “I can manage on my own now, thank you!” She resumed laughing and let him take over the job of cleaning himself. He winced with every sound she made, complaining that his head was pounding.

_Serves you right dumbass. That'll teach you to get blackout drunk … in KIRKWALL!_

Flinging the water from her hands she glanced at his clothing with a grimace. “I may just burn these.”

“I have nothing else to wear, so unless you'd prefer me walking about naked … I mean ... I wouldn't … do that.” he said stumbling over his words.

She glanced at his muscled torso appreciatively saying, “Well … there are worse ideas.” He was glaring at her, but she thought she saw a rising blush beneath his bushy beard. “You need a shave, that monstrosity feeding on your face has braided itself into knots.”

“You speak … strangely.”

“I'd like to think it's more creative than strange. Alas, my genius is unappreciated in my time,” she said melodramatically.

She snapped a large cloth in front of him. It had been an exercise of will to keep from getting an eyeful of his manhood. Luna was only human, well mostly, and at length it drew her gaze. That was the exact moment he caught her looking of course.

“Find something of interest?” he growled.

“Not particularly. Though I'm glad to see the water isn't too cold for you,” she deadpanned.

He hesitated for a moment, but then snatched the cloth to wrap himself in. She respectfully turned her back as he removed himself to the nearby chair. Reluctantly she gathered his clothes off the floor while her face cooled. Alistair leaned forward trying to grab his clothing from her as she approached the fireplace with them.

“Oh no, we'd undo all our hard work if you put these back on.”

Luna tugged the cloth around his waist, laughing, and he had no choice but to guard his modesty. She used the opening to throw the disgusting pile into the fire. They caught almost immediately, there was no saving them now. “Naked it is!”

Alistair watched helplessly as they burned. “Who are you … really?”

“I'm called Luna. We're still in the Hanged Man by the way.” Alistair looked like he was going to be sick. She quickly retrieved a bucket and set it next to him. “Aim for this please, I have to sleep in here too. I'm not cleaning it up if you miss.”

After purging his stomach Alistair looked a little less green. She left the bucket beside him, he might need it again. Looking up at her he asked, “Why do this? Why take the time to help someone like me? I could have been dangerous.”

“Because … sometimes all it takes is one person to give a damn.”

He was quiet for a few minutes, then slumped, looking defeated. “I used to think so.”

“So what changed?”

“I trusted someone I shouldn't have. I was betrayed … by the Hero of Fereldan. I'm sure you've heard of him, everyone has.”

“That betrayal cost you your Kingdom. I'd say it's high time you took it back.”

“How do you know about THAT?”

“All in good time.”

“And what am I to do sitting naked in your room exactly?” He fidgeted nervously, looking anywhere else but at her. Shrugging Luna headed towards the door and Alistair made a choking sound. “You're not leaving me here like this!”

“You can't go anywhere if you're nude. I hope you have at least that much dignity remaining. Otherwise I'm wasting my time.”

“Where are you going?!”

“First to find something for you to wear that isn't halfway to getting up and walking of its own accord. Then to feed you something other than a liquid diet.”

* * * * * *

Luna rushed about Lowtown trying to catch the last of the merchant stands before they closed for the evening. She managed to find some fairly cheap clothes for Alistair to wear and hoped they would actually fit. Despite the opportunity to ogle the unconscious man, it just hadn't sat well with her. So she had done her best NOT to look at him, futile as the attempt had been.

She really hoped he'd be up to shaving on his own, he'd tried to hide it, but his hands had been shaking. If he could relax she might be inclined to get rid of his pesky hangover. Maybe the healing spell could be used to mitigate some of the withdrawal symptoms? Still there was no way he'd let her hold a straight razor to his throat.

_Are you seriously considering deposing a QUEEN? And replacing her with a drunk?_

_Not just ANY drunk! Alistair's rear needs to be firmly on the Throne of Fereldan._

_Yes, because that should be YOUR decision? He didn't want to be King in Origins, you haven't even ASKED him what HE wants. This is SELFISH and you KNOW it._

That last bit gave her an idea on her inevitable conversation with Alistair. Lost completely in her own thoughts Luna almost barreled over a familiar little girl as she moved through the bustling crowd. She dropped her purchases and caught her before she could be trampled. Unphazed the child was smiling up at her, her small hands wrapped firmly in Luna's tunic. Hope was wearing clothing that appeared warm enough but now she didn't have shoes.

“Hope!”

“I knew you'd remember me!”

“How could I forget such a brilliant little hero?!” Luna ruffled the girl's hair, grinning widely. “Sweetie, it's FREEZING out here, where are your shoes?”

“I gave them away. Toby's feet hurt, he needed them more.” Luna frowned but the girl interrupted her before she could say anything. She grew serious saying, “I've been looking for you. I follow you sometimes. I needed to talk to you, and here you are!” She threw her arms wide with barely contained excitement.

_Okkkkkaaaaay … not creepy at all …_

“Looking for me? Why?”

“When you stopped to heal that soldier, I knew you were a good person.”

“And ...” Luna prompted.

Looking into Luna's eyes with all seriousness, the child replied, “So few people are.” The simple statement made her heart ache. What was life in Kirkwall like for this little girl? What was it like for the countless orphaned children that ran through Darktown and the narrow alleyways of Lowtown?

“Well, in that case … You're more than welcome to tag along, I've got some more errands to run, and it would be nice to have a little company.”

As she bent over, to pick up her goods, Hope shook her head sadly saying, “I'm just here to ask a favor. Like I said, you're a good person. And I need a good person … to stop some bad people.”

This brought Luna up short. “What bad people? Has someone hurt you?”

“Not me, the elves. Someone is hurting the elves. They're hunting them. Catching them. Selling them. At least that's what the rumors say.”

“Here?! In the Kirkwall Alienage?!”

“No. Fereldan. All over Fereldan. Orphans talk. And they need a good person to do something about it.” A smile brightened Hope's face. “And so I thought of you! Will you help?”

_Well that's a hell of a coincidence. Wait, I thought without Loghain the slavers were supposed to be stopped?! Could Anora be … she couldn't have continued what her father started? If I handle this right, this might be just what we need to get Alistair back on the throne!_

“It's settled then,” Hope said nodding when Luna remained silent. Pulling off her satchel, she handed it to Luna and said, “Here, this will help.”

Luna took the satchel with a frown. Confused she opened it at Hope's urging and found ten vials of healing potion, and ten vials of something she didn't recognize. Why would she give away something so valuable?

“I love it when you sing,” Hope whispered.

Startled she lifted her gaze to thank Hope for the gift. She found that the girl had already vanished into the crowd.

_No, not creepy at all._

 * * * * * *

Luna had dragged a small table into the room despite protests. She dragged the hunk of bread into the remnants of the stew in her wooden bowl. Alistair was happily munching on the piece of cheese she'd handed him. She had thought that maybe the portrayal of his love of cheese had been exaggerated. It had not. Inwardly laughing at his antics she tried to finish her meal without choking.

_At least he's eating the stew._

The tunic he now wore was much too small but it was clean. It had been a literal struggle, but she had managed to comb, then tie his long hair back with a leather thong. He had grudgingly shaved down to a goatee when she had threatened to eat all the cheese herself.

He glanced up from his meal, still looking at her with suspicion, and she didn't blame him. Swallowing the last of her food she flopped into the straw of the bed, and waited to see if he would speak.

“Thank you. For the food milady. It's the best thing I've eaten in … a long time.”

She snorted. “I'm no Lady. You've heard me swearing. It's just plain Luna.”

“Well, just plain Luna. I am clothed and fed. Now to the point, what do you want?”

“Honestly? I want to go home.” Her voice broke. She hadn't even needed to think about the answer. Thedas was a living nightmare. One she wished to wake from every single day. Luna looked at the ceiling, momentarily lost in the thought of holding her son again. She cleared her throat. “But since that's not possible, I'll settle for helping YOU.”

Alistair cleared his throat as well, having briefly glimpsed her pain. “Why can't you return home? Let me guess, you were banished for accosting strangers with soap?” He smirked, far too pleased with himself for that comment.

_Cheeky bastard. Oh, and he is too! A bastard I mean. Heh._

“It's hard to get to where you're going when you've been there and can't remember how you got to where you are from where you were.” You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

“I have absolutely no idea what you just said.”

“Enough about me.” Luna suddenly sat up, crossing her legs, and pointing at him. “YOU, are Alistair Theirin. You are a Grey Warden. You helped defeat the Fifth Blight.”

“How did … I was being a loud drunk wasn't I.”

“Not really.”

“Cryptic ... You're confusing me. Please. STOP. If this is some new form of torture, you win.”

_It's now or never. Time to face the music Alistair._

“When was the last time you spoke with your uncle Teagan?”

Alistair glared at her. “How do you even … If you intend to use me in some twisted political game to hurt what little family I have left ...”

“This isn't about ME, or what I intend Alistair. This is about what YOU intend.”

He stood up, glaring at her. “I don't know who you think you are. But I didn't ask for your help. I was perfectly fine where I was.” Luna raised an eyebrow at him and looked at the washtub. “Well … I guess I did smell rather … pungent.”

“What do you want Alistair?” she asked her tone becoming serious.

“Excuse me?”

“It's a simple question. One you just asked me, and I answered easily. What do you WANT?”

“I don't ...” He opened his mouth to continue, but stopped himself, fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Do you intend to kill yourself with drink? Do you intend to die alone, driven mad by the Calling? Anora seems quite content to forget you ever existed.”

“What does it matter what I want? I can never have it!” he snapped.

_Here fishy fishy fishy._

“That's defeatist. You can't start anything with an attitude like that. WHAT DO YOU WANT?” She felt a little guilty for goading him like this, but it was really for his own good. He needed to acknowledge why he was drinking himself to death.

“I don't KNOW!”

“You don't know or you're too much of a coward to speak it aloud? You must drink so much for a reason.”

“Why does this even MATTER to yoU!?”

'WHAT DO YOU WANT ALISTAIR THEIRIN?”

“I don't KNOW WHAT I WANT!” Alistair began pacing the room. She had wanted him agitated, and it was working. However, he kept glancing at the door looking for an escape. Luna needed this to escalate, NOW.

“BULLSHIT!” Luna stood and faced the angry man, jaw set stubbornly. “DUNCAN knew you were Maric's SON! His killers roam free, mocking everything he was. Mocking every sacrifice you made during the Blight. So answer the FUCKING QUESTION. WHAT DO YOU WANT?!”

The mention of Duncan finally had him erupting at her. She did her best to maintain her ground, but Alistair could be scary when he wanted to be. He was not a small man, and she prepared to defend herself just in case she'd pushed him too far. He turned and struck the table, splitting it in two with a crash, making her jump.

“I want JUSTICE! Damn you, vile woman. Is that what you wanted to hear? I want Loghain paying for what his lust for power cost Fereldan, not prancing around pretending to be a WARDEN! I want Anora stripped of the crown she and her father stole from my brother. I want that slimy, backstabbing, Aeducan in FUCKING chains!”

He started sounding less angry, and more distraught with every word. “I want to go back in time and tell the spineless idiot wearing my face to grow up and LEAD as Duncan wanted him to. I want to GO HOME. But none of that can happen. So rather than dwell in memories of past failures … I choose instead to drown them!”

_Gotcha._

Alistair was still looking stunned by his own tirade. He was breathing heavily, and kept glancing around the room as though he expected an ambush. She smiled, but remained silent for a few more moments, letting his words sink in. He sat back down, placing his head in his hands.

_Thank you, *Mr. Morden. So the Hero of Fereldan was a Dwarf. Wait, if Aeducan, Alistair, AND Loghain are alive then that means … Gods that means Morrigan performed the Dark Ritual. Dammit I only ever played a FEMALE dwarf. Could a dwarf be Keiran's father? Was that even an option? That could mean that Alistair's a father!_

She took a calming breath, thinking on all that Alistair had revealed. “Well … traveling back in time is a bit outside my range of abilities. But the rest of it may not be as impossible as you think.”

“How? It would be suicide.” The anger seemed to drain away from him, replaced by melancholy. “You really are insane.”

“As I said before. All in due time. There would have been no point in even trying if we didn't want the same things. However, I'll need you to fill me in on a few more details.” As an afterthought she grinned adding, “Besides, all the best people are a little mad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * A reference to Mr. Morden. A character from the sci-fi series Babylon 5. One of his notable appearances was him posing the question "What do you want?" rather insistently to the Space Station's various ambassadors.


	19. AMBUSH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna spent the next couple of weeks changing sheets, wiping the stinking sweat from Alistair, and generally playing nursemaid. He was wracked with fevers and the accompanying Warden nightmares were difficult to deal with. She used the inverse of a **Sigil of Warmth** to keep the compresses cool. He'd had what she could only describe as a seizure on the third night and she had forced a healing potion on him. She had never been so thankful for a gift.

She refrained from using her magics to cure the symptoms. It might seem cruel, but she felt he needed to fight through this without a crutch. It had never occurred to her that quitting alcohol could produce withdrawal symptoms so severe. In hindsight it made perfect sense, alcohol was a drug. It disturbed her enough that she cobbled together a way to distill drinking water for them both. She would not drink ale in front of him, and worried about them staying in a tavern.

Luckily the last job with Turrik had been relatively short and uneventful. Alistair hadn't even woken while she was away. She had a fair bit of coin left before starvation would become a real issue; though her supply of herbs was now depleted.

Alistair spent most of HIS time vacillating between hurling insults and actually hurling. Despite his grousing, she noted that his health was steadily improving. He'd called her a Rivani spell-whore when she'd used her **Accelerate** to knock him back into the room once. It was now one of her favorite insults. She still had a couple from Earth that were fairly crass, but she was holding those in reserve for someone truly deserving.

_Do I look like I'm from Rivain? What would a spell-whore DO exactly? Does he mean I'm hoarding spells, or actually using magic for naughty things? Great, now I'm going to be thinking of all the ways to use magic during sex … no … not going there … nope … great now I'm picturing it._

Still it wasn't all bad. Alistair was steadily making more jokes than insults, and had actually managed to THANK her. He understood what she was trying to do, even if he still couldn't understand why she bothered. When he was feeling up to it, they stayed up late into the night, simply talking. It helped her to check off more of the worldstate in her little book. 

The exiled Noble of Orzammar had been an efficient Warden. Alistair had admired his ability to achieve their goals, though he had disagreed on most occasions on how to get there. The dwarf had been cruel, and apparently got along best with Morrigan and the Qunari Sten. Alistair remembered Leliana well, describing the bard in great detail. Luna had smirked knowingly at him when he realized he had been speaking of her at great length.

He made no mention of Oghren or Zevran.  She hadn't pried, knowing that sooner or later she would learn of it.  She didn't want to dwell on the possibility that Zevran had been killed.  It would not have been unreasonable to execute the assassin after he'd attacked them.

 Alistair told the story out of order; pieces here triggering another memory there. It was an emotional roller coaster. She was relieved to hear that they had broken the werewolf curse in the Brecillian forest. The Temple of Sacred Ashes had not been desecrated, and the dwarf had put an end to the slave trade in Denerim's Alienage. The blame had been placed firmly at Loghain's feet.

However Luna mourned the dwarves when she learned that Harrowmont had been crowned their leader. His stubborn adherence to tradition would doom them to extinction despite being the better man. The Warden had made it clear to everyone his choice had been about revenge on his brother. Even Aeducan couldn't bring himself to let let Paragon Branka live, which was a relief. Luna couldn't hold back her gasp when Alistair told her the Anvil of the Void had not been destroyed however. He had also been confused by her mention of Shale, which meant the Golem was likely still a statue in the village of Honnleath.

He had been embarrassed and ashamed when she broached the subject of Morrigan and the Dark Ritual. It was all she had needed; to know that he had indeed fathered a child. He was disgusted with himself, ashamed that he had chosen to live. Luna wondered if fathering a bastard himself had led him to drink.  


Alistair had stopped asking her how she knew so much about his exploits. He simply took advantage of having someone who was truly listening. She knew it wouldn't last, she owed them all an explanation. Truthfully she would enjoy unburdening herself as well, but she was afraid ... SO afraid of how they might react.

At her urging Alistair had written the letter to Teagan, though she had been holding the quill. His hands would still shake on occasion. They had left it vague on details, but Alistair's main concern was to let Teagan know he was still alive. Luna made sure to lace the letter with subtext about lifting Alistair's banishment. Figuring out a way of introducing herself without sounding like a social climber would be interesting.

She couldn't monitor Alistair's aura, which made things harder, but he seemed to believe she was genuine in her desire to help him. She had even given back his weapon, and Warden insignia, now that she was sure he wouldn't use it to attack her. When she'd taken him the letter, Varric had kindly reminded her that she owed him story time. She was grateful when the dwarf didn't press too hard.

After a particularly trying day she was started awake by someone gently knocking on the door to their room. Glancing at the candlemark she noted that it was just past midnight. Alistair was sound asleep on the only bed in the room, an arrangement to which he objected every night. She had already endured Varric's probing questions about their sleeping habits. Apparently the sound of sick could be mistaken for lovemaking in Lowtown.

_*She heard a quiet tapping, as of someone gently rapping; rapping at her chamber door._

Her protesting back was a testament to her decision to sleep with the chair firmly against the only exit. The rogue had been disappointed to find her asleep there one morning. He had picked the lock, though he protested his innocence. The last thing she wanted was for Alistair to wake in the middle of the night to an alcoholic beverage calling his name.

Stretching to release some of the tension, she gently used her leg to shove the chair aside. Alistair was instantly alert at the noise, and catching his attention, she nodded towards the door. Free of the alcohol that had plagued his system for years, he swiftly rose from the bed, and drew forth his sword in one fluid motion.

Luna was impressed, in spite of herself, by the graceful efficiency Alistair exhibited. A satisfied grin crept across her face as she realized that his skill was largely undiminished. The road to his full recovery didn't seem so far fetched a dream just now. The gentle tapping began again, and she cracked the door open. She grabbed the intruder quickly, dragging them inside the room, and slammed the door shut.

“Peace! Peace my Lady!” the startled elf cried. To all outward appearances, this docile, helpless elven servant was about to piss himself. His nervous disposition was completely feigned. His aura read completely calm, even with the dagger she held to his throat. He was of average build, average height, and had one of the most forgettable faces she had ever seen. If Luna didn't know any better she'd peg him as a stock NPC build.

_The perfect spy. Or messenger._

“Quit the act elf-boy. Who sent you.” The elf smirked and stopped trembling. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had encountered him before.

“Good, we can get down to business quick like then.”

Luna pressed the dagger against his skin, though not hard enough to injure him. He didn't even flinch. “I've come with a message for you Mistress Luna.” He glanced significantly at Alistair. “It's to do with his royal Highness.” Alistiar groaned at the sarcastic descriptor.

“Spit it out, I have shit to do today.” Luna bared her fangs at the man, in what was becoming a habitual snarl, and she finally managed to get a real reaction. He looked at her with open curiosity, then continued as though nothing had happened. He had looked like he wanted to dissect her, not a comforting thought.

“That is absolutely true. You're late for your appointment.”

“Am I? Funny I don't remember making one.”

The elf reached for something in his tunic, and Alistair caught his hand, “You must think us absolutely stupid.” He removed the dagger the elf had been reaching for and handed it to Luna. The Templar insignia winked with the light of the fireplace.

“A Templar weapon. Where did you get this?” Alistair looked ready to kill the elf and Luna pressed a hand to his arm, urging him to stay his hand.

_Wait … that chip on the guard looks familiar._

The elf was still completely calm. “You must think I'm daft if you think I'm going to attack two seasoned fighters, such as yourselves, ALONE.” He indicated the dagger, “THAT's part of my message.” He coughed twice and then began to recite verbatim. “I'm calling in my favor. You seem to have lost this again. Follow my man so we can meet. It concerns your bastard.”

Luna slowly removed the dagger from the messenger's throat. He was openly smirking, but it dropped from his face when she snapped at him; not in fear, but calculation. “Blight take you. Why didn't you open with 'The Broker Sent Me.'”

Alistair looked between the two, lowering his guard, and quipped. “Someone's never heard the phrase 'don't kill the messenger.' All messengers should take that as a lesson, or at the very least a … vague warning. You know … of possible death … and dismemberment.”

She responded by rolling her eyes at him, then looked back to the elf. “Give us a moment to get ready. Just so you know, if this is a trap, I'm killing you first.” It took a great deal of will power not to slug the slimy grin from his face.

* * * * * *

Luna wasn't surprised to see that at least some of Hawke's usual company were still going strong with a game of Wicked Grace. Alistair kept his hand on his sword hilt, unsure of what awaited them beyond her door. He apparently didn't even remember arriving in Kirkwall and had no idea how he'd ended up drinking in the Hanged Man. He remembered plenty of other bars along the coast, his drinking problem had already been a real issue.

Anders and Alistair met each other's eyes almost immediately upon their entering the common room. Luna realized they must be sensing the presence of the Darkspawn taint. Noting the tension between the two she tried to reassure her charge. Luna was a little concerned that he was following her commands so easily, but that would be a discussion for another time.

“He didn't say you could bring anyone else.” The elf snapped as she approached the table.

“Didn't say I COULDN'T either. If you want me going you'll shut it.” Ignoring his hostile glare she approached Varric. “You like to think of yourselves as heroes,” she said without preamble. “I think I'm about to walk into a trap, who wants to help guard the damsel in distress?” Luna blinked at them all as the messenger angrily slipped out the front door. 

Fenris huffed at her description of herself lowering his drink to the table with a thump. “A Damsel, you are NOT.”

“And you appear to have a Templar with you.” Anders growled. He looked like he was itching for a fight. 

“And YOU appear to be a Warden. I wouldn't worry, I took no vows before The Joining,” Alistair replied.

“Cram it Anders. Are you coming or not?” Luna didn't have time for this.

“I'm in.” Varric grabbed his crossbow without any hint of hesitation. He had a glint in his eye that had her instantly suspicious. Glancing in his mug she noted that it hadn't been touched.

“What? No bargaining?”

Varric shrugged. “It's a slow night. You want bargaining? You still owe me a story, I'm not letting you die before I get it.” He winked at her. Luna didn't know whether to be happy that his help wasn't costing her anything, or afraid of his determination to unravel her background.

“Why are you even going if you suspect it's a trap,” Anders asked. He stood to accompany her reaching for his nearby staff. Luna noticed that he was trying to subtly urge Fenris to join them. The elf was doing a fairly good job of appearing to ignore him.

_Wow … Anders is really bad at the whole … clandestine … message pantomime thing._

Looking down at the disgruntled elf she said, “I'll pay you if you need me to.”

Fenris rose from his seat with an ease that she couldn't help but envy. Too bad his disposition towards her hadn't improved. He was not happy, and made no attempt to hide it. Turning to her he flatly stated, “Hawke has made it clear that he desires your continued existance. I will accompany you.”

“Where IS Hawke?”

“At home. Sleeping … one presumes.”

“Well, that was easier than I thought it'd be.” She followed after the elf, with her newly formed entourage in tow. Even with the pace the elf was setting she had time to explain that they were meeting with the infamous 'Broker.' Varric at least seemed to recognize the name. She was surprised when their guide lead them towards the warehouse district. 

For some reason she'd assumed they'd be meeting in Darktown. This was better. Why go to the smelliest part of the city for a little meeting? They entered what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There was a built in dock and a fairly nice looking ship moored there. This was supposed to be a peaceful encounter; still they all approached the situation with weapons ready.

A familiar sandy blonde head came into view, though she noted he wore a silver Orelsian mask of some kind. He stood almost at attention, his hands clasped behind his back. His aura was practically screaming at her that something wasn't right. He was nervous about something, even his regular body language could have told her so. She wasn't really sure it was him until he finally spoke.

“Trickster ... a pleasure as always.” She flinched at the use of her old nickname, and cursed herself for being so transparent.

“This is only the second time we've met Broker.”

“That you recall.”

“ **Okay** **** … if you're going for creepy … THAT statement, plus the mask is really working for you. What's this about?” 

“Well first and foremost, I wanted to return your dagger.” Luna involuntarily glanced at the hilt. “You took that trophy with such style. The Alienage will never forget it. Perhaps you should keep better track of it. That's twice now I've had to return it to you.” Alistair frowned as he remembered the weapon.

This entire conversation was off putting. It was making her nervous, the feeling growing with every passing comment. She squared her jaw and presented a confident front. “That twat deserved far worse. I'd do it again. I don't hold with rape anymore than I condone slavery.” Varric seemed to be eating up the conversation and Fenris watched her closely at the mention of slavery. 

Damn him … they probably had more than enough information to track the event in question down now. Perhaps he thought he'd be the one to sell it to them. “I thought with a moniker like 'The Broker' you'd be more keen on keeping secrets,” she hissed.

_SHIT. This was a power play. That wasn't for my benefit, is someone watching us? Is he TRYING to piss me off?_

“I deal with more than information. But I digress. You owe me a favor. I would like you to keep that in the forefront of your mind.”

“So you're messenger reminded me.” Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw movement. The elf in question seemed more arrogant by the moment. Suddenly 'The Broker' gestured at his associate, anger permeating his aura. “I see you and Mikah have already taken a dislike to one another. Good. So my favor ...” His next words left him in a rush, “KILL him LUNA! He's an agent of Queen Anora!”

The second that the words left his lips Mikah's aura flared with his intent to kill. He drew twin daggers, and before she could even blink had unleashed one directly towards Alistair. The other he swung wildly at 'The Broker' slicing his ear. A dozen or more men came charging at them from adjoining rooms and she heard Varric cry out a warning. Her blood ran cold as she felt something hit her in the neck.

Panicking, she cast  **Accelerate** without fulling visualizing the Sigil. Instead she accidentally layered two distinct copies directly over each other, like a badly aligned xerox. To her surprise TIME, which should only have slowed to a crawl, seemed to almost freeze. She attempted to take a step, and found herself charging forward at incredible speed, blasting past the assassin. She slammed into a stack of crates hard enough that they exploded around her in a halo of rotting wood.

She attempted to approach the assassin again, missed, and slammed into one of his compatriots flinging the man into the air with enough force that he would be dead when he landed. Unable to control her momentum she tripped, sliding across the dirt floor. 

Thoughts flashed through her mind equally as fast. She asked herself why they hadn't attacked her in the street instead of waiting for her to speak with 'The Broker.' When she realized that the men had been sequestered in the side rooms it made more sense. Still his behavior puzzled her, why send the man trying to kill her, as his messenger in the first place? 

Looking up from her prone position she could still see the Sigils that had gotten her into this mess, hovering above the room. They were vibrating, pulsing along the cord of power still connecting her to them, as they fed off her like a leech. She realized with growing horror, the depth of her mistake.

It took her several more tries before she was able to control her movements. It was like learning to walk all over again. Every tiny movement of muscle had a devastatingly powerful reaction. She forced herself to learn quickly, as the spell was draining her with every impossibly slow beat of her heart. Her reserves would not fuel the spell forever, and she was witnessing time as though it ran in slow motion now.

Plucking the dagger meant for Alistair out of the air she ran straight for the assassin. After all she had promised to kill him first. She used the dagger to carve a curved path through his torso, disemboweling him.

Luna whipped her head about, taking in the carnage around her. Her perception of time seemed to ebb and flow. Hawke's companions were deadly. She watched as Fenris neatly ended the lives of two of their attackers with one stroke. It was surreal, blood cascading in a crimson wave that rippled like silk. 

She was able to watch as Varric's crossbow bolts entered the body of the nearest man. The ripples from the impact were faster than the man's realization he'd been hit. He cried out in pain as the bolts tore through his body. Varric was grinning in triumph, but she also saw the flash of regret that he likely showed no one.

Alistair's face contorted in barely contained rage as he raised his shield to deflect an incoming hammer blow. His sword gliding through the air, slicing between the ribs of his attacker. Ruby droplets twinkled as he withdrew the blade, floating like tiny jewels, before painting his face crimson. He looked like a crazed viking. 

Time convulsed, her spell was unstable, and she wasn't sure what the final effect would be. Glancing behind her again her breath caught. Anders was silhouetted in a blinding halo of blue fire. Justice's power was tearing through his skin, his face contorted with unimaginable pain. Lightning forked from his staff, and she watched as the electricity bloomed along the limbs of his victims.

_ ' _ The Broker' did not stand by idly. He ended the lives of three men, his movements like those of a dancer. The mask did nothing to hide the disappointment in his eyes. She deflected an arrow meant for herself with barely a glance. Luna walked calmly towards the archer, and turned her neck at an impossible angle. The breaking bones reverberated across the woman's skin. It was far from a swift end in this light, as the signals to her brain slowly fogged her eyes in death.

Time wrenched her forward, and her current victim was still registering the pain of her dagger's thrust. She made her way across the room, slitting the throat of the man about to ambush Varric. The dwarf turned his head slowly, and she wondered what he saw as she stalked her next target. 

Two more people were slowly fading into death when she felt the last of her power siphoning away. She perforated the nearby woman trying to backstab Fenris and realized they had killed all of their attackers. She made her way back to Mikah. Angered at the thought of him trying to murder Alistair, angered that she hadn't perceived it, she took his head between her hands and pressed her thumbs into his eyes.

The Sigils were pulsing, wild Mana leaking in all directions. It was going to explode and she intended to direct it. Thinking quickly she threw a shield over herself. Not to block an incoming attack, but to contain the fury of a spell gone wrong. Time caught up with her, and she screamed as her shield collapsed with a thunder clap. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest, and the assassin was torn to shreds by the whipping current of unleashed power.

When she opened her eyes there was nothing left of him. The elf was a blackened smear of grease and charcoal. The skin of her arms was torn to shreds, the edges curling and crisped. Her streaming blood mingled with her enemy's. The acrid stench of his gruesome departure wafted through the warehouse. Glancing down she noted the soil beneath her had cracked, melded into shards of blackened glass, that clung to her bleeding feet.

She couldn't help the keen of pain that escaped her throat, and she choked back the urge to sob. Her hands were curled, like claws, and she realized she could not unclench them. Still she reached for the pain in her neck, and struggled to remove a dart of some kind.

_ Whatever it was coated in must have burnt off. I'd say that was lucky … but I'm not sure the trade was worth it. _

Everyone was staring at her. It would probably be in her best interests to explain what had just happened. There was no hiding what had occurred. What in blazes was she going to say? Her blood continued seeping into the ground.  She would need to heal herself quickly. Luna weakly turned to face Anders.

What better time could there be for a little dark humor? “Anders, I seem to have accidentally become a part of the floor. Could you be a dear and peel me out? I need to heal myself before I bleed to death.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A reference to 'The Raven' by Edgar Allen Poe.


	20. REVELATIONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. I must have edited this one 20 times, and I think I finally got it. Hopefully you all agree!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

No one was moving.

“What kind of **Mad-hatter** fuckery are you babbling about?! I am NOT a Bloodmage!” She gasped out her words, pain forcing her speech to sound clipped. Luna struggled to free her feet, gritting her teeth against the excruciating pain. The flesh began to tear and she fell to her knees with a scream. Blood pooled around the broken glass, but she was still trapped. “Please ...” 

Anders tried to step forward but Fenris stopped him. “Not this time Mage. I will have answers!" 

“You can't expect me to leave her to bleed to death! It's as before Fenris, I sense no magic in her!” 'The Broker' swung his head to listen more carefully, he leaned himself casually against a wall, content to be ignored. 

“We tried it your way MAGE. Now we try it mine.” 

Varric chimed in, though he didn't lower Bianca, instead training it on Fenris. “That's a little harsh, even for you Broody.” 

“I do not need to be a Mage to recognize a spell when I see it!” 

“If she cast a spell it is unlike any I've ever encountered!” Anders growled. 

“Oh, so you've encountered every magic in the world?!” Fenris looked at 'The Broker' and Alistair asking, “Are you going to try to stop me as well?" 

'The Broker' crossed his arms, and with a smile on his face saying, “Far be it from me to get between a man and his psychotic tendencies. However I would PREFER you not to further injure her as I still have business to conduct.” Fenris grunted in response. 

Luna started laughing bitterly, “Oh yes, by all means, let's conduct some business. **I am so beyond done.** " She shouldn't have laughed ... laughing hurt. 

Alistair pushed past them all and looked down at Luna. She gritted her teeth, and glared at the him. “Can I help you?” she asked in far too chipper a tone. “Have you decided I'm too dangerous to live as well?” She pointed at the elf that was still lounging against the wall. “Why isn't anyone attacking the ASSHOLE that got us AMBUSHED?” A small hysterical laugh escaped her only to be replaced by a cry of agony as a piece of glass snapped.

Varric glanced around nervously. “Why don't we all calm down, and discuss this like adults WITHOUT excellent ways to kill each other?”

The ex-Templar knelt beside her helpless body and drew his sword, causing Anders and Varric to gasp in protest. Everyone was surprised when he began using the pommel to break the glass still holding her prisoner. She valiantly attempted to remain silent; she failed.

Fenris still had his blade drawn and took another step towards her. He gestured to the carnage that surrounded them. “Fools! Look around you!” Anders tried to throw a barrier over Luna, but it immediately dissipated, causing him to curse. 

Alistair stopped bashing at the glass and glared at the elf. “You're not the only one that wants answers. She may very well be a Bloodmage, but she isn't in any condition to fight us. LOOK at her. I'm not going to let the woman that spent the last several weeks SAVING my LIFE, bleed to death on the floor of an abandoned building!” Alistair resumed his work, ignoring both Luna's whimpering and the gathered companions. 

“She is dangerous! We should interrogate her while she is too weak to cast any further bloodmagic!” 

“We are no less dangerous!” Anders countered, pointing to the bodies that had obviously been their own handiwork. “Take a look yourself! We still stand. Don't you think she'd have killed us already if she were a DANGER to US? She is still bleeding, if she were truly a Bloodmage she would USE that!” Fenris watched the pooling blood around the woman, his resolve seemed to be wavering, a flash of concern warring with the anger on his face. 

Luna gasped in pain as she struggled to free herself from the glass. Her eyes were shut as she tried to escape the pain, but she opened them to look at Alistair. He refused to look at her. There was something she should be feeling about that, but she couldn't remember what. Her mind was drifting away; some dark abyss beckoning her. 

“Out of my way ABOMINATION. Hawke isn't here to shield either of you.” 

“But he's sure as shit going to be hearing about it. Let Blondie patch her up already!” Varric was NOT happy. 

Alistair glanced up at the healer at Fenris' outburst. Anders faced the angry warrior with his staff raised, yelling at the elf. “I should NEVER have listened to Hawke about you!” So much for easing the Warden into the drama of Kirkwall. 

Fenris approached Anders with deadly speed. 

“You're not going to DO this!” Anders' cried trying to shield Luna from Fenris with his own body. 

Fenris shoved Anders aside to reach her and stopped suddenly at the sight of a small girl child blocking his path. Luna shook her head, trying to bring her eyes into focus. Alistair squeaked, actually squeaked, at her abrupt appearance. 

_Where the fuck did she come from?!_

“You WILL NOT DO this.” It would have come across menacing if it hadn't come from the throat of a seven year old child. Fenris stopped In his tracks and glared at this new obstacle, lowering his weapon. 

_Then again hearing that in a child's voice is fucking TERRIFYING. It seems to be enough to give Fenris pause._

Alistair finished what he was doing and turned to look at the elf. “If she loses any more blood you won't be able to get your answers. She's no good to anyone as a corpse. Stand aside.” He stepped towards Fenris and gently laid his fingers on the elf's sword-hand, forcing him to lower his weapon further. Fenris sagged his shoulders in defeat. 

Varric lowered his crossbow in relief, though he kept it ready just in case it was a feint. “You people are going to give me a heart attack.” 

Hope turned towards Anders saying, “While you're all busy being mean, my friend is bleeding to death.” 

Realizing that he was being told to do something about it he nodded and walked to Luna's side. Kneeling he began tending to her injuries. 

Looking back to Fenris the child shook her head sadly, saying, “She's not a Bloodmage. And I can prove it.” Pointing at Fenris' feet Hope commanded, “YOU ... STAY!” When Fenris didn't reply Hope harrumphed, turned her back to him, and walked to Luna's side. 

Luna who had been staring silently at Hope since her arrival asked, “Where did you come from?” 

* * * * * *

Fenris was torn, his hatred of magic, clashing with his ability to think logically. “Damn you all.” He sheathed his weapon and watched as Anders drew forth a healing potion and gently tipped it into her mouth. He immediately followed it up with another, and Luna had trouble keeping it down. 

_This woman has been nothing but trouble since the moment I laid eyes on her._

Anders did not look pleased, he had been pouring healing energies into the woman, yet the wounds remained. “It's as before. I cannot heal her. The potions have stopped the bleeding, but she's lost so much.” Anders threw him a disgusted glare. 

Alistair looked between the Abomination and the injured woman in confusion. “Wait, why doesn't it work? You say this has happened before? Should we find another healer?" 

Anders looked insulted at the suggestion. “Not to boast, but I'm better at this than any Circle Mage you'll find. It isn't the magic, it's HER. She … absorbs it.” His voice cracked as he continued, “I can't …. I can't fix this." 

Hope placed a hand on Anders shoulder and said, “It'll be okay. I promise. Back away from her.” Anders gave the girl a penetrating stare, then reluctantly nodded. He rose from Luna's side, tugging Alistair with him. The ex-Templar complied, though he looked skeptical that the child could do anything to help. 

“WHY are we listening to the instructions of a child?” Fenris asked gruffly. 

Stepping up to Fenris, Anders said quietly, “I'd rather listen to HER than follow YOUR lead … proper cock.” Fenris clenched his teeth but otherwise did not respond to the jab. 

Hope ignored them and turned to the injured woman. “Luna,” she called, drawing attention to herself. 

Luna's eyes, which had grown unfocused, due to blood loss, suddenly cleared as her gaze fell upon the child. " **Okay** , for a moment there … thought I'd imagined you.” Her accent was more pronounced than usual. Fenris tried to ignore the guilt that was beginning to gnaw at him. 

Hope leaned closer and cupped Luna's face in both of her small hands. “I need you to do something. Can you do this ONE thing for me?”

Luna glanced down at her battered body, then looking back up, nodded. Her strength was waning, each breath coming slower. “I'll try” she whispered. “What would you have me do?” Fenris looked at the child with a growing sense of wrongness. 

Her voice barely above a whisper, Hope replied, “Sing for me.” Lowering her hands she stepped back. Varric's watchful gaze shifted from Fenris to the little girl, then towards Luna during the exchange. His grip on Bianca tightened, his knuckles turning white. 

_Sing? She is DYING what good is a song now?_

Nodding, Luna took a shaking breath and began to sing, the words mangled and choking. Fenris could tell it pained her greatly. She'd only finished the first line when Hope interrupted her. She stopped, looking at the girl in a daze. 

“NO!” Hope stomped one foot, clenching her fists in frustration. “Don't sing from the MIND, sing from the HEART. Let it flow through you, give it voice.” She gestured with her hands as she gave Luna direction. 

* * * * * *

Hope's words settled upon Luna creating a feeling of certainty, as though an invisible hand were guiding her. Luna drew into herself, surrounded by a cocooning shell of peace. At the edge of her senses she felt it, a gentle caress at first, rapidly growing in waves of radiance. She opened herself to it, and REACHED. 

A soft yellow illumination, seemingly without origin, filled the room. Her long hair was lifted by an unseen force; the braids freeing themselves and floating about her in waves of inky black. Opening her mouth, she let the power sing. Soft wavering notes accompanied her, drifting through the warehouse and everyone stilled. Luna opened her eyes, and they were glowing with a powerful inner light. 

*****[ **BLEEDING OUT**](https://open.spotify.com/track/3QfTNg08M5FHrjACZRAJGM?si=z6lL4oQ4SHORIwd4OiGGDA) *** (Cover by SVRCINA)**

**Bleed Out ...**  


**I'm bleeding out**  
**If the last thing that I do**  
**Is bring you down**  
**I'd bleed out for you**  
**So I bare my skin**  
**And I count my sins**  
**And I close my eyes**  
**And I take it in**  
**I'm bleeding out**  
**I'd bleed out for you, for you.**  


**When the day has come**  
**That I've lost my way around**  
**And the seasons stop**  
**And hide beneath the ground**  
**When the sky turns gray**  
**And everything is screaming**  
**I will reach inside**  
**Just to find my heart is beating**  


**You tell me to hold on**  
**You tell me to hold on**  
**But innocence is gone**  
**And what is right is wrong**  


**'Cause I'm bleeding out**  
**If the last thing that I do**  
**Is to bring you down**  
**I'd bleed out for you**  
**So I bare my skin**  
**And I count my sins**  
**And I close my eyes**  
**And I take it in**  
**I'm bleeding out**  
**I'd bleed out for you**  


**When the hour is nigh**  


**And hopelessness is sinking in**  
**And the wolves all cry**  
**To fill the night with hollerin'**  
**When your eyes are red**  
**And emptiness is all you know**  
**With the darkness fed**  
**I will be your scarecrow**  


**You tell me to hold on**  
**You tell me to hold on**  
**But innocence is gone**  
**And what is right is wrong**  


**'Cause I'm bleeding out**  
**If the last thing that I do**  
**Is to bring you down**  
**I'd bleed out for you**  
**So I bare my skin**  
**And I count my sins**  
**And I close my eyes**  
**And I take it in**  
**I'm bleeding out**  
**I'd bleeding out for youuu**

(Ahhhhhh)  
(Ahhhhh)

* * * * * *

As the music faded a warm, gentle, breeze drifted through the warehouse. It brought with it the soft hint of spring flowers and budding trees. Fenris felt awash with something he couldn't quite define, as though the world were holding its breath. Though he had not understood the language, the meaning behind the words had somehow been clear. A heartbeat later the peace was broken by soft childlike giggling. 

“See? NOT a bloodmage!” Hope spun around in place, her arms thrown wide. “Something else. Something new. Something wonderful!” When her twirling stopped, she stood with her hands on her hips, grinning in triumph. 

Luna collapsed as the light that had permeated her being vanished. For a moment Fenris wondered at how badly the broken glass of the floor would further injure her. Then he noticed that the ground centered beneath her was covered in a radiating layer of fresh grass. 

After landing on the soft green shoots, she gazed down at herself with a look of apparent shock. Her wounds had completely vanished, only the faint blemishes of long gone injuries remained. Fenris noted that the bodies that had surrounded them in a macabre display were no where to be found. 

He checked his own wounds out of curiosity, and saw that the little damage he'd sustained during the ambush had healed as well. A cursory glance at the others showed the same to be true of all those gathered around Luna. Even the blood that had coated them had disappeared. 

The child stepped forward onto the grass, took Luna's hand, and helped her to her feet. Hope leaned in close and whispered something he couldn't quite make out. It had something to do with not giving so much, a warning of some kind. It did little to ease his suspicions. Who was this child? 

Luna nodded, though the effort to do so caused her to lose her balance. Fenris caught her before she could tumble on top of the little girl. The Abomination glared at him as he steadied her. Fenris glared back, not sure why he'd even offered her his assistance. “Would you prefer I'd let her fall,” he asked to the Mage's annoyance. 

They all turned at the sound of someone padding down the stairs towards them. Hawke strode in and was looking at Luna as if she were a shiny new toy. He was not unaccompanied, and Aveline's red hair came into view. Fenris resisted snarling at the sudden new arrivals, looking at one in particular with barely contained disgust. 

“Ah, so this is where you'd all run off to. Hawke insisted that you'd still be at the Hanged Man. There was a HUGE explosion. Did you hear it? We've been looking all over for you. We followed the lovely music, were you having a party without us? Oh, are those flowers! I love flowers.” Merrill said brightly. 

* * * * * *

Luna watched the sunrise and took a deep, calming, breath of the salty air. This dawn gave Luna a greater sense of peace than any she had witnessed before. It was no doubt a result of the light and music she had summoned. She didn't know whether to take comfort in the thought or not. 

She was still haunted by the bone deep weariness that resulted from too much spell casting, but even that was diminishing quickly. Hope had warned her not to attempt such a feat again anytime soon. She insisted that without her there to act as a guide, that calling on that much power would kill her. Luna believed it. 

The others were all gathered on the deck of the ship that had been docked in the warehouse. It apparently belonged to the 'Broker' and he had graciously offered them its use. He'd also pointed out that he had little hope of sailing it alone. They had set sail without anyone seeing fit to tell her what their destination might be. Everyone had been whispering to each other and pointedly avoiding her. 

As soon as they were out to open sea they had all searched for Hope. No one could remember her getting on the ship. Yet no one recalled seeing her leave either. Luna had been chagrined when she finally realized what Hope truly was. She had absolutely no intention of outing her if the Mages present hadn't been able to tell. Though she thought she'd seen Merrill snickering to herself. 

_Of course Merrill would recognize a Spirit when she saw it._

'The Broker' approached her cautiously and leaned against the railing. “You haven't asked me about the ambush,” he said. 

Luna shrugged. “It's fairly obvious. Your messenger ... I've seen him in the Hanged Man. I should have known Anora would never let Alistair wander around unchecked." 

“You're finally thinking. Good.” 

She glared at him in annoyance. “I never claimed to be good at this.” 

“If you intend on leading a coup, I would suggest you become so. Quickly." 

“It's not a coup … its an ascension,” she hedged, glancing at Alistair. 

The look he gave her would probably have made a lesser woman blanch. “An ascension with a PROMINENT female obstacle. Where do you think this path will lead you? Anora allowed King Maric's bastard to live, where do you think that will lead HER? No matter what your intentions were when you entered into this, you MUST know it can only end in blood. Call it what you will. But make no mistake as to the nature of the beast." 

“So be it.” 

“Is it worth it?” 

“That depends. Are the rumors of the Queen selling your people into slavery true?" 

A long silence hung between them as he looked into her eyes. “Yes,” he said finally, a deep sorrow she hadn't expected running through his voice. “Yes, they're true.” 

“Then I'll spill whatever blood I have to,” she said with grim determination. 

_Enough is Enough._

Luna looked at the gathered heroes, rogues, spies, and martyrs fondly. “Alright people. Are you going to stand around whispering and ignoring me forever? Or are you prepared to hear my story?” Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to face her. 

Varric strode forward, appointed as official representative. “That's it? No more half truths? No more dodging, wriggling, and generally being annoying?” 

She smiled indulgently, “I promise to tell you as much truth as you can handle.” Varric frowned at this. Luna gestured to herself. “I'd say it's pretty obvious I'm different. I've delayed this long enough. Might as well blow your mind with an unbelievable story. But FIRST,”she said pointing directly at the 'Broker', “I want you to lock HIM in the cargo hold.” 

_No way am I telling them this in front of an INFORMATION broker._

“This does NOT bolster my confidence about future business dealings!” he called to her as he was being escorted from the deck. They dropped anchor, still listening to the loud protests coming from below. 

Merrill had found her a cushion to sit on and she gratefully sat comfortably for the first time in months. It reminded her of a beanbag. When everyone was situated around her, she cleared her throat nervously. To their surprise the first thing she did was shed her shirt. 

After several lude comments and her sarcastic retorts she unbuckled the harness that had almost become a part of her. Opening the pouch she removed the small book it was designed to hold. She gripped the book tightly, fear rolling over her in waves. 

“Firstly. Try to hold your questions until I take a break. Otherwise, I might back out of doing this all together.” She took a steadying breath. “Four months ago … I woke up in a field, naked, with no idea how I'd gotten there.” Varric chuckled at this, and it eased her anxiety a little. “A Templar named Geoffery found me, saved me from an Abomination, and took me to the Amaranthine Chantry.” 

She flipped to a picture of Alistair and held it up for them all to see. He was surprised, but said nothing, as she had requested. “I drew this three months ago.” She flipped to another page, each one had the portrait of each of the companions in exquisite detail. She explained that she had known them, long before they'd ever met. Now came the hardest part. “I've seen you all before. I knew the Qunari would attack Kirkwall. I know … Actually I know quite a bit of what's going to happen.” 

“You're a seer?” Anders asked, and Varric smacked him on the arm. 

“She said to wait,” he griped. 

Luna chuckled saying, “Not … exactly. I know that's not a good enough answer, but I'll try to make this as easy to understand as I can.” 

_I'm here, this is real. They're as real as I am. I will NOT tell them their lives are just a game._

“I'm not from … here. **Son of a bitch** this is even harder than I thought it'd be.” 

Hawke snorted. “Well that was bloody unclear.” 

“Look smart-ass I'm TRYING.” Putting away the book Luna nervously played with her hair. She needed something for her hands to do. Luna closed her eyes, looking at them was making this impossible. 

“I'm not a child of Thedas. I'm from another world.” Everything went deathly silent, the creaking of the ship loud in her ears, and she forced herself to continue. “Where I come from ... all of you are the stuff of Legends. I know each of your stories like the back of my hand, even though you have yet to finish those stories.” Seeing the incredulous looks on their faces she worried that she had already lost them to disbelief. 

None the less she chose to press on. “Because I know what's going to happen to each of you, and it's NOT all good, I've been trying to use my knowledge to change things for the better. I'm trying to save you all.” She looked first at Anders then directly into Alistair's eyes and continued her voice growing quieter, “Some of you, even from yourselves." 

Aveline kept glancing at the others for their reactions clearly thinking she was mad. Hawke and Varric seemed like they were calm on the surface, but their auras told her a different story. Anders looked stunned, but more inclined to listen to what she had to say, though he was looking at her in a manner that made her heart flutter. She quickly threw her shirt back on. 

Fenris looked much the same as he had before. It was like he was withholding judgment, probably until the issue of whether or not she was a bloodmage was finally resolved to his satisfaction. Merrill was watching her intently, though she sensed more intense curiosity from her than anything else. However Alistair looked away, fidgeting uncomfortably, in response to the rebuke. 

She sighed. “If thinking of me as a Seer is the only way for you to accept this, then so be it. I'm a Seer. But no matter what you call me, I'm telling the truth.” 

“As mad as your tale sounds … “ Hawke said finally, “It certainly answers a lot of unanswerable questions. But it creates many more.” 

Varric grinned widely saying, “Did these legends ... happen to mention my amazing chest hair?” 

_This is gonna be a long day ..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bleeding Out - by Imagine Dragons
> 
> Here's the link to the cover I used for Luna's song.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/track/3QfTNg08M5FHrjACZRAJGM?si=z6lL4oQ4SHORIwd4OiGGDA (Cover by SVRCINA)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CkwtG9Sj3k


	21. PROOF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English will be written like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

_Ugh, they've been arguing for almost an HOUR._

“Surely you don't believe this! I've accepted many things since meeting you Hawke. But a woman from another world? There is no such thing!” Aveline was looking at Luna as if she were an insect she wanted very much to squash. 

Hawke didn't seem fazed by any of this. The Mage was leisurely seated on a barrel by the main mast. He was calmly eating what looked like some sort of pear, and casually threw the core overboard. Fenris had positioned himself near her, and though he didn't say much, his eyes never left her. It was unnerving. Varric kept right on jotting notes in his little book, while the others had continually thrown their two cents into the argument. 

“No one can see the future!” Aveline snarled, slamming her fist down onto the rail. 

Luna coughed, gaining their attention. “POSSIBLE futures. I know which actions will lead to which outcomes on your paths. Except maybe for Alistair, his path has become … muddled, I found it unacceptable.” He clenched his jaw at the mention of his name.

She paused looking around for something to use as an example. “Think of it like … the helm of a ship. If you were to turn it a single degree, it could change your destination by a hundred leagues by the time you reach shore. So even the subtlest, minute, changes can dramatically alter where the ship takes you. Some of you, have accidentally veered off course. I'm doing what I can to tack against the wind; to take it back to where you need to be going.” Alistair turned away. He still wouldn't look at her, obviously uncomfortable. 

_Well that hurts._

“And what gives you the right to choose for us,” Alistair asked quietly, still refusing to meet her gaze. 

Fenris finally spoke, “I agree. If what you say is true, what gives you the right to change our lives in such a manner? I do not believe in fate. I prefer to chart my own course." 

_Oh, nice. I guess we're going to continue using ship references._

Luna shifted nervously, then looked out over the calm waters. “I don't. I'm not here to take your choices away. I'm here to offer you new ones.” She strode over to Alistair, placing her hand over his. It was awkward, she didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but he didn't pull away. “A storm called 'The Blight' threw you off course … and a Captain named Aeducan left you on a sinking ship, and chose to save himself. I'm the lifeboat.” No one spoke for some time, before Hawke broke the silence. 

“I've seen stranger things Aveline, well at least equally as strange, and so have you.” Hawke said, looking pointedly at Anders and Fenris. “We're all misfits, wouldn't you say? I think we should give her a chance to prove it.” 

Aveline huffed in disbelief, “I've said it once, and I'll say it again. She cannot be trusted. This story about another world is a fantasy.” 

Merrill took the opportunity to be included. “Well if there ARE other worlds in the Beyond, I would appreciate hearing about them. The power she calls on ... I have not sensed anything like it outside of rotting parchment, and crumbling stone ruins. Keepers are taught to recognize such things, so that we can continue our task of restoring _**Elvhenan**_. She may be, as the child said, something new, but she has tapped into something very old. I will listen to what she has to say … for now.” 

“And what would you call the Fade then Aveline, if not another world,” Anders interjected with conviction. “Don't you see what this is? A woman, from beyond the Fade, with the power to heal with song? She must be a sign from the Maker. You cannot deny what we all witnessed!” 

Luna placed her fingers in her mouth and emitted a shrill, painful, whistle before Aveline could retort. “WHOA WHOA WHOA! Let me stop you right there Feathers. I don't know if you've noticed, but I am NOT Andrastian. I follow a … multitude of Gods.” 

This peaked Merrill's interest, “You worship the Creators?” 

Groaning, Luna shook her head in the negative. “NO … not exactly.” 

“Luna you healed yourself using a literal 'Chant of Light!'” Anders exclaimed with what was beginning to sound like religious fervor. 

She had to nip this in the bud. “I was NOT sent here by any DEATH God!” she spat out angrily, startling the healer. Luna hadn't realized how loud silence could truly be until this moment.

_Oh fuck. That grabbed everyone's attention._

“A DEATH God???” Varric asked in genuine surprise. 

Instead of backing off, Luna let years of frustration with the story of 'Dragon Age,' bubble to the surface. “Um yeah. Have you ever READ the history of your Chantry? Thanks but no thanks. I want nothing to do with racist, slaving, self-righteous hypocrites, obsessed with someone THEY murdered.” She gave a short mocking laugh. “Oh but that's fine … they felt so bad for BURNING Andraste to death. Here let's create an entire religion around her. THEN let's use any excuse to IGNORE HER MAIN POINT in rebelling against SLAVERY.” Merrill seemed terribly amused, and Luna began pacing along the deck as she continued to rant. 

“On top of that you accept that the Maker ... what … ABANDONED you. So he's a **deadbeat** on top of being a horrible parent.” Luna was pretty sure she'd just insulted everyone, but hey, she was fed up with their bickering. “Besides, I take real issue with anyone that meddles with their own records to hide their 'inconvenient' history.” Cue more nervous shifting from the devout Andrastians. Luna sighed, at their blank expressions, rubbing her face in both hands before exclaiming, “I'm talking about Shartan! Please tell me you at least know who HE was! You know what, forget I said anything … except for not being sent by the Maker. I stand by that.” 

“On that we can AGREE,” Aveline growled quietly to herself, clearly having taken great offense. Anders looked a little sour at her as well now, though he at least seemed to be THINKING about what she'd said. 

_Ah, making friends where ever I go. It's what I do._

“Luna. Can you prove any of your claims?” Hawke asked diverting the conversation back to its original point. “A couple of drawings hardly seems proof. You could have made these at any time. With far more practical explanations,” Hawke said still leaning against the mast. 

She rolled her eyes. At this rate they would become permanently stuck that way. “Technically, Anders already saw the drawings while I was still unconscious. That proves I at least had them before I met you all.” Hawke looked at Anders in surprise and then mounting annoyance. The Healer looked sheepish, and she realized she'd just accidentally outed him. 

_Oops. I'm going to hear about that later._

She spoke quickly, coming to his rescue for the moment. “It's about time one of you bothered ASKING me. You honestly think I've been stewing on this for four months without thinking of ways to prove it?” She paused to think for a moment, glancing at each of them. “Alright … Who wants to go first?” 

“Ummm ….” Alistair cleared his throat. “First … for what?" 

“I'm going to divulge a secret. Something I couldn't possibly know … about each one of you.” Everyone but Alistair seemed doubly nervous now. “I leave it up to you whether I do it privately or not. I would suggest privately, considering the nature of the information.” 

Merrill stepped toward her, a small smile on her face. Her large eyes seemed to be committing her to memory, and Luna swallowed nervously. “I would hear what you have to say.” 

“Oh … right now? Are you sure you wouldn't like to … do this where the others can't hear us?” The elven woman strode across the deck and beckoned for her. 

“Right.” She joined Merrill, though the others did nothing to hide their attempts to listen in. Clearing her throat she leaned in close enough that only Merrill would hear her whispers. “You're right about the Eluvians being important to your people. You will need the Arulin'Holm. Stay away from bloodmagic, it will destroy everything you love.” Merrill pulled away to stare at her. Luna took a deep breath and added,“Tamlen is gone.” Merrill's expression fell, and Luna immediately regretted telling her and tried to apologize. 

“Enough! No more. You've made your point.” Merrill's outburst startled everyone. She looked stricken, and walked to the other side of the deck. 

Varric stepped forward next saying, “You must have hit a nerve. I don't know what good this is going to do you Trickster, I don't HAVE any secrets.” He gave her a confident smile, she actually felt really bad for what she was about to say. 

“I know about Bianca.” Varric stilled, then swung his crossbow down from his back with a grin. “Nooooo … I mean … I KNOW about BIANCA. She won't stop hurting you Varric, she's selfish, and shortsighted. You deserve so much better. Haven't you faced enough assassins because ...” 

“STOP. Alright. I stand corrected. Just … don't finish whatever you planned on saying.” Varric joined Merrill, hurt warring with his usual grin, and she heard him telling the distressed elf a lurid joke. One that went completely over the naive elf's head. Luna appreciated his attempts to cheer the Dalish. 

_I'll be lucky if they don't all hate me by the end of this._

Anders approached her warily, glancing at her two previous … victims. “They don't appear to be happy about what you've told them.” 

“No, they don't.” She sighed, looking Anders in the eyes, and took both his hands in hers. “You are a good man Anders.” He looked at her skeptically. “No, hear me out, yours is probably going to be one of the most difficult for me to finish.” They were both nervous now, but he gripped her hands tighter, and it seemed to steady her. “You accidentally set a barn on fire. The Templars took you after your father called for them, you were only twelve. Anders isn't your even your real name … ” 

Anders gave her a glance full of sympathy. “That's enough Luna. You don't need to ...” 

She tightened her grip on his hands. “Please listen, I need you to believe me.” Her voice grew thick with emotion, and Anders stopped his attempts to leave. “You are losing yourself. Taking in Justice was an act of compassion. One that is slowly driving you both mad.” Anders wrenched himself from her grip. 

“No more my Lady. Please.” He turned away to join the others. 

“There's a cure,” she whispered. That stopped him in his tracks and he looked at her as if she'd grown another head. “There's a way to separate you from Justice.” 

“That's impossible." 

“My very existence is impossible. Yet here I stand. All I ask is that you think on it.” He nodded, slowly, and joined Varric. She walked back to those she hadn't yet made uncomfortable declarations to. 

Approaching Fenris she said, “Would you like me to tell you anything?” Fenris nodded, waiting for her to continue. “I guess you don't care if this is private then. I'll keep it vague. You first breathed freedom in Seheron. The fog warriors … didn't survive.” He looked away from her. 

“This only proves you are a good spy.” Fenris snarled. “You could be an agent of one of our many enemies. Simply fed information to make you appear trustworthy.” 

Luna grinned widely, “Layers Fenris. I'm not expecting you to simply take my word for it. I DO have another way to hopefully prove what I'm telling you." 

“And that would be?” 

“Well, if there's a delicate way of saying this … I don't know it. But Thedas is kind of … primitive by my standards.” 

Varric snorted, “You sure that isn't just Kirkwall?” 

“Har har. No, seriously, your machines are … centuries behind what my people have accomplished. Possibly more. The prevailing theory seems to be that having access to so much power and obvious magic has stunted your civilization's forward advancement.” Luna pulled her not so secret notebook back out. 

Flipping towards the back she revealed several schematics she had been meticulously replicating from memory. “My people are beyond using horses for transportation. Our cities are clean of … excrement. Bathing everyday is considered normal, and we have clean drinking water piped throughout.” 

"This is your idea of proof? City management?” Varric asked with a chuckle. 

“No, those were just vague examples. THESE are all things Thedas has yet to invent. They're actually considered extremely out dated in my Realm … hundreds of years old. But they are the cornerstone on which my civilization was built. Without these … here let me give you an example.” 

She tore out a piece of parchment and began folding it, in a very deliberate pattern. It only took her a few moments, as it was something she had enjoyed making with her son. “This, is a child's toy. Something we play with on windy days. This is how my people learned to fly.” She finished off by tying thread to her impromptu masterpiece. She climbed into the rigging a few feet, just to gain a little more elevation. 

“What are you doing?” Fenris asked.

“You'll see in a moment!” Luna threw the kite into the wind and it caught immediately, and she cautiously made her way back down. Using the thread to keep it from gliding away she approached Hawke and handed it to him. “My son was always interested in flying,” she said sadly. “We spent an entire summer building an **ultralight** once. It could only carry two of us at a time … but I still remember the plans for it.” 

“You have magic to make things fly?” Aveline asked watching the kite closely. 

“No. Not magic. Science. It's completely physical. It's using the air current.” She pointed up to the masts of the ship. “A lot like a sail actually.” 

Hawke lost control of the makeshift kite. It crashed into the deck. Turning it over carefully, Hawke began examining it with magic. “You say you remember how to build one? A large scale version to carry people?” 

Luna nodded. “It would look fairly different. But the principles are the same. Any one of thousands of machines. Many used as toys for our children, could make me a fortune. I wouldn't need to stay in Kirkwall, surrounded by people that want to kill me. I could simply patent everything and retire to a nice big mansion in the countryside somewhere. But I won't.” 

Alistair surprised Luna when he cleared his throat saying, “I don't think there's a need for anymore proof as far as I'm concerned. Your actions since the day I've met you … The things you know about me. I already believe you.” 

Aveline groaned saying, “Wonderful. You've convinced the known drunkard.” Alistair didn't even flinch at the insult, but Luna could see the shame in his eyes. She didn't need to read his aura to know that it hurt him. 

Luna was suddenly in front of the Guardswoman, growling at her in anger, flashing her teeth. The sheer size difference between Aveline and Luna would have been hilarious if not for the very real danger of them hurting each other. Luna couldn't help herself, Alistair did not need to be looked down on by anyone. Especially someone that had practically thrown herself at his feet in an alternate timeline. 

“That man is no mere drunkard. He survived Loghain's betrayal at Ostagar! He fought the BLIGHT for over a YEAR while you and Hawke high tailed it out of Fereldan with your tails tucked firmly between your thighs.” Hawke emitted a small choking sound, the first time she'd been able to get a reaction out of him. Varric, who still had out his small notebook, quietly began writing more notes. 

“You know nothing about that,” Aveline said angrily. 

“Don't I? Where exactly IS Wesley?” Luna sneered. It was a low blow, and Luna didn't care in the slightest. 

Aveline looked absolutely stunned, though her hand was drifting towards her weapon. “Take a good long look at him Aveline.” Luna pointed at the Alistair who looked increasingly upset, but still she plowed ahead. “Remember this moment. There will be some serious groveling in your future because of it. Does he remind you of anyone else at Ostagar? No? Try picturing him wearing gold. Funny how much he resembles his brother.” Everyone was staring at Alistair now. 

Aveline's furrowed eyebrows rose to a comical height as she did as she was asked. “No … that's not possible.” She subsided into confusion 

“Why do you think QUEEN Anora tried to ASSASSINATE him?” 

Alistair turned to her angrily, “What happened to the privacy you promised, or does that not apply to ME?” Luna winced as he stormed away, slamming a cabin door hard enough for the wood to crack. 

“Oh, for Gods' sake.” She glanced after him, biting her lip in embarrassment. “Um, I should probably ... I need to …” 

“Lover's quarrel?” Varric muttered in amusement though she had no trouble hearing him from this distance. 

_I guess I'll add enhanced hearing to my list of weird changes._

“REALLY Varric!?” she asked in exasperation. “We're not Sleeping together!” 

“Is that so? I heard you had his pants off the first night he slept in your room.” 

“I was BATHING him!” This announcement caused Aveline to blush, and Hawke began shaking with laughter. 

“Ooo, what does someone have to do to receive that little pleasure?” 

“Varric, from what I hear, EVERY pleasure involving you is a 'little' pleasure.” Luna gave the dwarf a triumphant smirk and disappeared below deck. She ignored his protesting comments as she searched for the angry Warden. 

She found Alistair sitting on a bunk with an unreadable look on his face. “I'm … I'm sorry Alistair. I got worked up, and I said things that weren't … Look I'm sorry. I'm sure you've noticed by now … I have a terrible temper.” Luna stared at her feet, too worried that she wouldn't like what she saw in Alistair's aura. He didn't say anything for a long time. 

Finally he said, “No. It's I who should apologize. I over reacted.” He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling when he accidentally snagged a knot. “The truth is. I'm not really angry with you. Nothing in my life has gone as I had intended, and rather than facing those that ruined me, I … I gave up. If you hadn't found me that night … I would still be everything that woman believes me to be. A drunken sot. You've given me the first real chance of putting my life back together; of earning some sort of redemption … but I haven't learned how to stop hating myself.” 

Luna knelt by Alistair's feet and looked up at him; her head cocked to the side. “We're both still learning. At least I managed to convince YOU I'm not insane.” 

Alistair smirked at her, some of his trademark humor returning. “I'm not so sure of that. I mean you did tell me you were a LITTLE mad.” 

“Wha? No I didn't,” she said shaking her head in confusion. "When ...” 

“Yes … yes I distinctly remember you claiming good people are mad. Or madness dwells in each of us ... maybe you just thought I was mad AT you … It was definitely SOMETHING like that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhenan : **Name for the elven civilization before arrival of humans. literally - the place of our people**  
> 


	22. ALLIANCES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was exceptionally long. I actually had to remove part of it to use in the next chapter O.o It just kept GOING.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna was glad Alistair was in the mood to joke again. She had the social skills of an attention deficient fern, and humor was easier to handle. Just as she stood to leave she glimpsed something from the corner of her eye and grabbed the intruder.

“Peace Trickster! Peace,” cried 'The Broker' in astonishment.

“How did you get out of the hold you son of a bitch?” Luna had no idea how long he'd been standing there.

_How long has he been listening in? Did he hear everything I told them?_

Alistair stalked over and snatched the man from her grasp, before he could escape, pinning him against the nearby wall. “Answer the question,” he commanded.

“This is MY ship. You think I'd have a hold without a back exit?” The sneaky elf asked smirking. “Don't worry your secret is safe with me 'Beyonder'”

Luna glanced at the two of them, drew her dagger and attempted to slit the elf's throat. She was stopped by Alistair's iron grip on her wrist and his shocked expression. “What are you doing?!”

“Getting rid of a potential problem,” she hissed. “This SMUG asshole sent an assassin straight to our door without any warning. Now he's overheard some VERY sensitive information. I have no intention of letting him leave this ship.” Alistair looked at her in concern but said nothing, turning his attention back to the struggling elf.

“First of all, if I had known without a doubt that he was the assassin I wouldn't have left myself open to him.” The elf continued trying to free himself while speaking. “Secondly, if you couldn't handle a single assassination attempt, then you're no good to me. And as for your secrets, let's just say you haven't been quite as inconspicuous as you believe you have.”

“You seemed pretty sure he was an assassin when you ordered me to kill him.”

“He confirmed his identity to me with the vehemence he displayed in volunteering to fetch you.”

“That's it? THAT proved he was an assassin?” Luna tried to remove Alistair's hand from her wrist to no avail. The only way she would be able to free herself would be to use her abilities.

The elf stilled, glaring unflinchingly into Luna's eyes. “Well, if I was wrong ... and I'm never wrong, all it would have cost me is a messenger. And it would have demonstrated your willingness to follow orders. Which you do quite well I might add.”

“I don't like being used as a puppet!”

“And I don't like secrets being kept from me on my OWN ship. SO, going forward, I will not treat you as a puppet, and you will not threaten to kill me. Agreed?”

Luna stopped her struggles against Alistair, still fuming, and said, “Fine. But you work for ME, not the other way around.”

“I'd prefer to think of it as a mutually beneficial partnership. You keep your ear to the ground for me, and I collect and spread information for you. The bastard takes the throne, and my people stopped being sold like cattle.” He was entirely too calm given that she'd just tried to knife him. Alistair tightened his grip on 'The Broker' and ground his teeth, but caught Luna's gaze.

Luna looked to Alistair who nodded and she took the time to consider the elf's offer. “Agreed,” she snapped.

Alistair released his grip on her as she calmed down saying, “We might as well return to the others, there IS no privacy on this blasted ship.”

“If it's privacy you're seeking, I suggest you avoid the galley.” Luna turned to looked at the elf in annoyance as he spoke. “The walls may not have ears … but the potatoes have eyes.” He grinned at her and she groaned in disgust before storming up the stairs.

“That is SO cheesy,” she grumbled.

“Do you like cheese?” he asked following after her with a large smile. Alistair stared after the pair, at a loss as to how to react to this new development.

* * * * * *

_I feel a migraine coming on. I should just be glad *'Aveline Warrior Princess' went to sleep already. I can't handle two mule headed Thedosians right now._

“... and not even a *Joxer for comic relief,” she muttered to herself.

Luna still hadn't been able to convince Fenris she wasn't a spy. If he glared at her any harder he'd probably pop a blood vessel. There was really only one more way left to convince the stubborn warrior, but she was loathe to do it. He wasn't leaving her much of a choice though.

“You are the the most STUBBORN person on the face of THEDAS! FINE. It does no good now, because your memory is completely SHREDDED, but I'll PROVE it to you … somewhen.”

“What are you babbling about now,” he asked, appearing bored.

“I'm going to predict the future for you. A strictly LIMITED prediction. It won't prove anything to you until it happens, but I have nothing else left to convince you with.” He was paying complete attention now, as were the others. The hushed conversation over their card game stopped as they all listened with rapt attention.

“First I need to ask an important question.” He nodded and she took a steadying breath. “Have you encountered Hadriana yet?”

“Shouldn't you already know this SEER?” he asked condescendingly.

“Just answer the fucking question will you,” she snapped. Her patience was wearing thin.

He glared at her while he considered. “No. I have not seen Hadriana in years. That you know her name only makes you more suspicious you realize.” It was as she'd thought, events were not happening as strict 'Acts' as in Dragon Age II. However since the game had been presented as a story told by Varric, she had expected some inconsistencies.

“I'm VERY much aware. As I said, this will not help my case right now. Only at a later date. Follow me around like a crazy deepstalker until then, I DON'T CARE. I've told you the truth. Do you want the prediction OR NOT?”

“Make your prediction. I will be watching you closely. It makes it that much easier that you know I'll be doing so.”

“Whatever. Here it is.” She paused to ensure her words were heard clearly. “Hadriana … Orana … Sister … Leto ... Volunteer ...”

Fenris huffed in annoyance. “That makes no sense.”

“It doesn't NOW. Trust me. It will mean quite a bit later. Now that I'm done catering to your ENORMOUS ego can I please finish my discussion with HAWKE?” Not waiting for an answer she seated herself in front of the others. “Now, where were we?”

Hawke looked up from his hand of cards, “You were explaining why you wouldn't build me your flying machine.”

“Oh, right. I'm not saying I won't cash in on some of the smaller inventions.” She bowed slightly to Varric and said, “Which I would appreciate Master Tethras' help with any contracts for. I will need the coin to fund … things. But I have no intention of building a flying machine. I just needed an extreme example that would illustrate my point.”

“Why are you limiting yourself?” Anders asked, genuinely curious.

“Every action has a consequence. I've already set in motion a series of events that may change everything. I'm gambling on the changes being positive. I don't want the added guilt of creating a situation in Thedas that will lead to the deaths of more innocent people. I'm already risking the entire future of Thedas by even telling you the truth.”

“You think one invention from your world could threaten ours?” Anders asked while placing another bet. His leg rubbed up against hers as he reached for a mug of ale and she was pretty sure it had been on purpose. She swallowed, trying to keep her mind on the question. Things were already complicated enough, without her having to deal with Anders in heat.

_That conjures a few images. The kind of images you might find in Varric's more … adult works. I hope I don't do anything that warrants him writing me into those. FOCUS! Inventions, world, threatened … oh yeah._

“Unless you want me to give you a lecture for the next couple of years. Take my word for it. Trust me, it would be like trying to explain Orlesian politics to a nug.”

Hawke took offense, “And I take it we're the nugs in that analogy? This is how you ask for my help?”

Groaning in frustration she finally snapped, “Believe me or not, trust me or not. I'm done trying to convince you people. I'm tired. This conversation is over.” She picked up her pack and trudged to her bunk. Someone was calling out her name as she stumbled down the stairs but she didn't bother answering. The mental and physical exertions of the day finally caught up with her, and she was soon fast asleep. She hadn't even managed to remove her footwraps.

* * * * * *

After their lengthy stay aboard the ship it was decided that they would stay in Kirkwall while 'The Broker' searched for evidence against the Queen and any nobles that supported her. When sufficient proof had been acquired he would send for them, and then the real work would begin. Sometimes it felt like they were just treading water, but she understood that every plan required patience.

'The Broker' returned to Amaranthine, after hiring a new crew in Kirkwall, but continued to keep her apprised of anything vaguely interesting going on in Fereldan. His network of operatives extended into the Alienage of Kirkwall, and she was surprised by how often she was recognized by the elven population now. Most of the time the information was only useful in the short term, keeping food in their bellies, or ridding the Alienage of troublemakers. Still they continued to search for solid evidence against the Queen.

Hawke agreed to keep a lookout for her, though his obligations in Kirkwall prevented him from truly backing her endeavors. Fenris, true to his word, followed her around relentlessly. He made no attempts to hide what he was doing, and assisted in combat when necessary. She started to think of him more like a bodyguard than stalker, though it still annoyed Alistair, as he was with them constantly. The only exceptions were when Hawke required his assistance, and he would disappear for days, and occasionally weeks at a time.

She had finally managed to find some slightly better accommodations near Hawke's uncle. True by Earth standards it was still low income housing, but by Lowtown standards it was actually quite posh. That really just meant it had more than two rooms, an indoor outhouse, and the roof didn't leak during storms … much. Merrill had been very diplomatic about the condition of the furniture.

The one extravagance she had insisted on, was installing a bathtub/shower in her room fed by a cistern on the roof. Combined with her Sigil of Warmth the shower was sinfully luxurious. The first time she had used it she was irritated to find her ears seemed to be larger, and more pointed. The way she wore her hair had continued to hide them, but at this rate she would need to put her hair into **Leia buns to hide the changes. Luckily they weren't that obvious yet.

Explaining how the shower worked to Alistair had been fun, convincing him to USE it on occasion even more so. She was beginning to think that the man had an aversion to water, and was deathly allergic to soap. He claimed to have flashbacks of her attempting to drown him while scrubbing the flesh from his bones.

The first time she had to nitpick his now shorter hair for him she made it absolutely clear that he would use the new plumbing. She refused to have to cut her hair because of lice. He was now convinced she was a Noble from her world. No amount of arguing could dissuade him, though she was pretty sure he was simply stubbornly sticking with the assumption to annoy her.

Living on the edge of the Alienage meant that she was near Merrill, and the elven Mage had taken to inviting her to visit. Her first view of the Eluvian had left her giddy. It swirled in her Magesight, and she and Merrill had compared notes often. The mirror had tugged at her senses in a way similar to the tranquil, but without the feelings of wrongness. Merrill suspected she knew more than she was saying, but she was still debating on whether or not to tell the elven Mage that the Eluvians were actually doorways.

Luna met regularly with Hawke and company. She wasn't entirely sure that they believed everything she had told them, but they seemed to accept that SHE believed it. Anders seemed to have moved beyond his religious angle to explain her presence. However now he was an insufferable flirt, and despite her inability to understand social nuance, it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was interested in her. At least, she was pretty sure that's what all the extra 'accidental' touching was implying. However up to this point he had made no overt passes at her, so she still had to acknowledge that it might be a coincidence.

Alistair didn't drink. She had asked him if he wanted an ale once, while they visited the Hanged Man and he had nearly bitten her head off. He had taken to using their fireplace, and her portable still, to make plenty of drinking water. She asked him why he didn't find a place of his own and he pointed out that she had all the money they earned. When she'd offered to pay him his share he'd declined, saying that having her around kept him sober.

“You know … I might not always be there right?”

“Abandoning me already?” he asked with a grin.

“What?! No, I just mean you'll have to be able to be around alcohol ALONE at some point. Thedas isn't exactly swimming in fruit juice and clean water. Also having a single ale with a meal isn't a bad idea here, it'll kill any … illnesses in food. Which is probably MOST of the food in Thedas.”

“Illnesses in food? You're making that up. Water is fine. I'll just make another one of these … things you built.”

“You mean a still?”

“Is that what this is? I thought it was something more complicated from your world.”

Luna rolled her eyes, “Using FIRE? Nope, just a very badly built still. I didn't exactly have money when I made this **P.O.S.** ” It was then she realized that despite being the only one that truly believed her, he also had no way of truly comprehending her world and its technology. Not without her divulging more about Earth, and her people's way of life. Even then … would he really be able to understand all that she had lost?

“Pee Oh Ess?”

“Oh, it means piece of shit … it's an **acronym**.”

“Ack Row Nim?” His voice pitched higher as he tried not to laugh.

“Ugh … never mind.”

Luna was using her still for more than just drinking water. She had also taken to making small blocks of salt that she sold dirt cheap in the Alienage. Just because it was considered a luxury item, didn't mean she had to be greedy. The racists assumed she was selling something substandard and didn't question it, and the elves benefited from her altruism.

“How many languages do you speak anyway,” he asked poking the fire a bit.

“Um. Well, let me think. Common. **English**. Bad **English**. Conversational **Korean**. Mediocre **Latin** , oh wait that's Ancient Tevene here and horrible **French**. So five so far? Oh no, wait I also know REALLY bad **Spanish** , the kind that gets you dead.”

“That would make six then … Dead? Really? Maybe we shouldn't count that one. Wait you speak ancient Tevene but you couldn't speak Common when you arrived? How does that work?” He was smiling widely and Luna couldn't help but smile back. It made her ridiculously happy that he smiled more often than not. He sat at the small table in front of the fireplace … well the ONLY table in their hovel.

"Don't ask me, I'm figuring all this out as I go. I'm still not even sure how I got here." Luna placed a plate of food in front of him. “You are eating through our money. Almost literally.” She served three linked sausages for him as well, then cut a generous slice of cheese from the nearby wheel. She wondered why the Wardens hadn't contacted Alistair, had they given up on him?

It was comical the way he looked at her, wide eyed, with three cabbage stuffed dumplings shoved into his mouth. She'd hand rolled the dumplings herself, then fried them in animal fat. It was probably as close to **Mandu** as she'd ever get in Thedas. It was closer to a **Pierogi** because of what was available, and how she'd folded them, but she'd take it.

Alistair tried to speak with his mouth full. “Mouahghal takssth thso bgud!”

“Those aren't words in case you were wondering. I swear you'll die by food before you die in combat. How are you not choking to death?” She ate her food slowly, savoring the herbs in every bite. They couldn't afford tableware, so she used her dagger to cut slices of sausage, then brought the blade to her lips to eat. It felt very wild west, and probably made her look a little intimidating now that she thought about it.

Alistair finally swallowed and drained his mug of water. “I said, I can't help it. You're cooking is amazing. How do you make it taste so good? Everything I make tends to taste like ash.”

“It's amazing what you pick up when you grow up poorer than dirt. I might not make the most high quality food, but I can make it filling, and I can make it stretch. Otherwise we'd already be broke again. Also never underestimate the power of a pinch of salt. And your cooking tastes like charcoal because you burn it black. It's not supposed to be black Alistair.”

He wasn't really paying attention to her anymore, his mouth was full again, and the mound of edibles quickly vanished. All in all; everything was relatively quiet. Life had settled into a predictable rhythm and though she still had unanswered questions about herself and her abilities, life was good.

* * * * * *

Nothing had gone according to plan which, she noted wryly, seemed to be Turrik's 'Modus Operandi'. In the months she had been working for the prickly dwarf she had learned one very important thing about him. Every plan that Turrik laid out was a bad one.

This time they had escorted him to a cavern on the Wounded Coast only to find that his contact hadn't shown. Instead they had been met by a hostile force, who seemed to be using the same caverns for smuggling of a different nature.

Alistair's inspection of their bodies had revealed that they were from Tevinter, and she couldn't have been happier that she'd ushered them onward. They began searching the caves that served as storage, and found three children. Three Elven mages being smuggled away from Fereldan to be more precise.

They were untrained and afraid. One had lashed out at her with a bolt of lightning when she'd startled him. She'd blindly dodged, catching her foot on a loose stone, and had received a nice smack to the skull against the piles of cargo stashed along with the frightened children. It had been an instinctual reaction, and in hind sight silly, since her ability to absorb magic would likely have handled it.

Luna suddenly had a sinking feeling not caused by her head injury. Wincing as she touched the wound, she shushed the children. The one that had lost control looked on the verge of tears, so she smiled reassuringly, and winked. "Hush sweeting, no harm done." He calmed somewhat, confused at her lack of anger. Rising to her feet she got the children more comfortable, handing out food from some of the crates she'd found.

“Andraste's flaming arse, what am I supposed to do with three miniature Mages?!,” Turrik asked no one in particular when she'd informed him.

“Well, we can't leave them alone in a cave,” Alistair chimed in.

“Why not? That sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea to me.”

Rolling her eyes, she sat the children down at a table, and proceeded to ignore the dwarf in favor of caring for them. “Don't listen to 'Grumpy butt' children. I'm sure we'll think of something far more pleasant than anything those nasty men had planned for you.”

“We can't take them with us.” Turrik began pacing the sandy floor.

“I won't leave them here by themselves. How about you go find something shiny for us to sell. Then the trip won't be another loss? I doubt Athenril will be pleased, but the contact is likely dead.” Turrik grumbled to himself but began rummaging around for small items of value.

“We can't afford this shit. It's a good thing the cargo is still here.”

"Cargo … " she muttered with a frown.

This had been a slavers den. These children had been headed for Tevinter. They would have ended up as indentured servants at the least or slaves at worst. Slavers wouldn't have left so few people to guard their investment. The sound of gruff conversation and shuffling feet made her pause.

She caught Alistair's gaze, and used her head to gesture at the entrance. He nodded back, slowly unsheathing his blade, and made for the opposite wall. Luna peered around the corner of the cavern wall and cursed inwardly. There were at least a dozen newly arrived guards standing between them and the exit tunnel.

Gaining Turrik's attention she signaled for silence, not that it had done any good to signal him in the past. To her surprise her dwarven employer immediately guarded the children, and lead them into a back passage. Luna smiled, knowing that she was getting a glimpse past his uncaring facade.

Casting her two favorite charms, she mentally prepared herself to kill, and nocked an arrow in her new bow. Hawke had jokingly offered this particular one to her when they had returned to Kirkwall. He had assumed she'd want a weaker draw. It wasn't the strongest bow in the merchant stall, but it still seemed to surprise him when she chose it.

The recurve weapon was crafted in a style that reminded her of the Hungarian bow she'd used back on Earth. She'd had more opportunity to practice with it than she would have liked … on live targets. Still it was comfortable to use even without the use of her strength enhancement.

At a guess, it was equivalent to a fifty-five pound draw, stronger than what was required to kill a bear. Well a black bear anyway, she was pretty sure it would only piss off a mutant Thedosian bear. Hopefully she never had an opportunity to test that. Thedosian bears were crazy.

She drew back, timing her shot, and steadied her breathing. The arrow flew through the air silently; lodging in the throat of her victim with enough force to throw him into his companions. Another was loosed before the first was even registered by the shifty looking mercenaries, instantly killing another man. Alistair used the distraction to kill two more guards in quick succession. She could hear the cracking of bone as his shield slammed into his next victims.

They were making quick work of the mercenaries. Seven had fallen beneath her arrows when she glanced away for a moment too long. A shifty looking man scrambled to his feet and threw something at her that exploded like a flash bang grenade.

Her ears were ringing, the frightened cries of the children behind her greatly muffled. There was no way to hear his approach, and the resulting smoke made her eyes water. She drew her dagger and back pedaled waiting for her eyesight to clear. The man's wild swing cut through where she'd last been standing, and she threw the dagger. She couldn't be sure it had hit him, the choking smoke was spreading, and she still couldn't hear very well.

Drawing another blade she reached out with her mage senses, grounding herself as she tried to detect his movement. This was another advantage of wearing footwraps, she could feel for the attacker through her feet. She felt a slight vibration from his heavy steps to her right, they were too light to be Alistair's, and blocked the incoming strike.

His face was loosely wrapped in cloth, preventing him from breathing the smoke. Taking the hint, she held her breath, and viciously slashed at his face. He was unprepared for the brutality of her attacks, and was soon a cooling corpse.

The smoke cleared rather quickly, and coughing she realized her lungs ached. She wasn't sure what had been in the smoke, but she knew it couldn't have been anything healthy. It began to dissipate rather quickly, and she thanked whoever had had thought to add ventilation to the hideaway. Hawke and company appeared through the clearing haze, and the Mage use his magic to obliterate a guard that had made his way behind her. The bearded man smiled saying, "Well done, and here I was all prepared to slaughter some more slavers. I see we're a little too late."

Alistair was guarding her front and didn't relax until she gave the all clear sign. Coughing, she glared at the mage, "Fancy meeting you guys. *cough* I take it you took care of any stragglers?”

Varric whistled appreciatively. "Did you two really do all this by yourself? I have to say, you've got talent. Where's Turrik? I've got a message for him."

“YOU'RE *cough* Turrik's contact? Why didn't we just *cough* meet at the Hanged Man?”

Varric shrugged saying, “Eh, figured we could take care of both at once… didn't expect you to make it here before Hawke cleared everything out. Are you okay Tricky?”

Her coughing grew worse, and she glared at them all, "Tricky? You've shortened it? *cough* you cheeky bastard ...*cough* none *cough* of your damn *COUGH*"

_I can't BREATHE!_

Turrik emerged from a side passage way and looked at her with growing concern. “Luna are ye alright?” She couldn't answer, instead reaching a hand to her throat, trying to force air into her lungs. Alistair started to reach for her when the children began crying adding to the growing confusion. She stumbled towards the entrance, she needed air!

Looking grim, Fenris knelt beside the remains of the device that had been thrown at her earlier. He turned and caught her just as she felt the world tilt of its own accord. "She's been poisoned!" he cried catching her. She clawed at his arms, trying to right herself, but unable to focus. Suddenly, Luna began to seize, her entire body convulsing, her face turning a startling shade of grayish blue.

Her eyes bulging, she searched the face of the concerned elf, before passing out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *References to the T.V. show 'Xena: Warrior Princess' Joxer is the name of a character no one takes seriously  
> 
> 
> ** Reference to Princess Leia's hair from the original Star Wars movie.
> 
> (Korean) Mandu : **cabbage/meat stuffed dumplings that can be steamed, boiled, pan or deep fried.**
> 
> (Polish/Slavik) Pierogi : **a case of dough filled with meet/cheese/vegetables cooked by boiling, then pan frying.**


	23. ATROCITIES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait, have another chapter early! Muahahaha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

She and her son had been double timing it since dawn. Though they had finally thrown off the hounds pursuit several days before; their respite was brief and short lived. They had awoken this morning to what sounded like the buzzing of a large angry insect. As panic snapped them to full wakefulness a robotic drone had burst through the trees above them and into their campsite.

A thunderous crack exploded beside her, as her son discharged a round from his rifle. The pieces of the shattered drone rained around them, and she had noted it had no weapons. A reconnaissance drone. They had hastily grabbed their gear, and fled the point of their discovery. If the enemy hadn't known where they were, they certainly did now.

For over an hour, trees had whipped by them at breakneck speed. Finally desperate for breath, with lungs and muscles burning, they stumbled to a halt. Her sweat soaked clothing clung to her, she wasn't sure how much longer they could keep up this pace. Gasping Flynn leaned against a tree as they tried to recover.

“Mom, I'm almost out of bullets,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

She nodded, unable to respond, her tongue felt thick and useless. Her son emptied the last of his rounds into a pocket and discarded the empty ammunition box. Every breath of the cold morning air burned, it was like she had inhaled acid.

“How are they still tracking us?”

She glanced upwards at the canopy, and his face fell. If they were using satellites through the dense foliage, they were probably tracking their heat signatures. She shrugged off her backpack and rummaged around a bit. Pulling out what looked like Cosplay cloaks from the Hobbit. Flynn grabbed his without question, shrugging it on as it crinkled loudly.

She threw hers on as well, hoping this would be able to hide them long enough to escape. They had thermal blankets sewn into the lining, the kind they used in emergency kits. It was a trick a buddy of hers in the Army had told her about for hiding from heat tracking technology. Normally they would have donned them immediately, but there had been no time, and they had no idea how close the enemy might have been.

The average hick running around in the woods had no conception of the destructive capabilities of the modern world. They thought hoarding automatic weapons and a few rocket launchers could protect them. It was laughable. Their enemy wasn't even present in the flesh. In a detached, clinical sense, it was brilliant. Her abilities couldn't kill a person if they weren't in range.

Flynn threw her the canteen after taking a long pull. “Mom. Why are our spells getting stronger,” he asked in confusion. She could tell he was getting hopeful of their chances, but even he knew nothing came without a price.

She didn't want to think about it; had been avoiding thinking about it since they'd first **Accelerated** into the woods. Watching her son, the fear in his gaze, she answered honestly. She owed him that. “Because they're exterminating us.”

He flinched, but was still uncomprehending. She stretched her limbs, trying to get feeling back in the abused muscles. Clamping down on the tears that threatened to fall she choked out, “The more of us they kill, the less we have to share the power.” She gave him a hard stare as she watched understanding dawn in his eyes.

“This wasn't just us ...” he whispered in horror.

“No. It's genocide.” She took off at a jog, her son right behind her, setting a steady pace. There was no time to rest, they had to keep moving.

* * * * * *

Hawke cursed as Luna began to foam at the mouth and used his fingers to clear her throat. He immediately cast a healing spell, only to realize that it would do nothing for her. “Quickly, in my pouch!” Fenris directed them as he tried to keep her from injuring herself. Hawke hastily opened Fenris' belt pouch, searching for the vials he had stored there. Handing one to Merrill, the men held her down as she forced the contents down Luna's throat.

_Will this even work? Damn the woman and her secrets! If only I could HEAL her!_

When she stilled, her chest no longer moving, he felt the all too familiar acceptance of her death begin to take hold. He was startled when she began raggedly breathing again, but remained unconscious. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as she gasped for air. Color slowly returned to her face and she began retching up a vile green liquid from her lungs. Hawke gently held her long braids out of the way as sweat beaded against her darker skin.

Once she seemed to settle Alistair took Merrill's place by her side, and gave her a healing potion. Hawke watched as Merrill pulled a handkerchief from her pouch and reached for Luna's face. She stopped short when Fenris held a hand out for the cloth. Merrill handed it to Fenris without argument, then left to help with the children. He gently cleaned the stray hair and phlegm from Luna's face.

He had nearly finished when her eyes fluttered open. Her expression changed, lightened, as though a weight she had been carrying had simply vanished. She caressed the elf's face and he flinched, blinking at her in confusion. Then she began rambling in her native tongue, relief and joy apparent in every word and gesture. Fenris gripped her tighter as he realized she wasn't truly seeing him. “She is hallucinating.”

“Are you sure,” Alistair asked, clearly disturbed by her behavior. She was giving Fenris a look so full of warmth Hawke was shocked. He'd never seen Luna's face lit up with joy.

“Isn't it obvious?” Fenris asked as she continued to stroke his face, then tucked a lock of his white hair behind one of his ears. “Or is she prone to behaving like this regularly?” He continued cleaning her face, struggling to ignore her behavior, though Hawke noted he was being more gentle. “She is seeing a loved one.” Hawke noted that her reaction a moment later seemed to confirm the elf's assumption.

“Flynn … wha … no, oh please no,” she seemed to crumple as she focused on the elven man holding her and she looked around herself frantically. Tears began streaming down her face and she emitted a wail of utter desolation. Fenris looked truly stricken, his arms tightening around her in an reflexive gesture meant to comfort her. Hawke's heart ached at the sound. It was bereft of all hope. He had made that same sound when he'd lost his mother.

They stayed that way for some time. Fenris holding her as she shook with her incoherent sobbing. Alistair nervously paced the cavern, before leaning against one of the walls. Hawke thought he saw something near the entrance, rose to investigate, but could find nothing out of the ordinary. He returned to the cavern and took a place near Alistair. “Do you recognize the name she called for,” he asked the flustered Warden.

He looked at him nervously, then seemed to decide he deserved an answer. “Flynn is the name of her little boy,” he said quietly, sounding a little choked himself as her crying finally began subsiding. “He's only twelve.  She hasn't told me what became of him.” Hawke looked at her appraisingly. She looked far too young to have a twelve year old son. How old WAS Luna?

“Fenris … Ummm … what happened," she croaked clearly not remembering how she had gotten to the ground. Fenris was still cradling her in his arms, and Alistair came nearer clearly relieved that she was calming again. Fenris was looking deeply into Luna's eyes, a curious look on his face. Upon realizing she was aware, the elf abruptly dropped her with a thud.

“Ow.” she said, more startled than injured.

“Really! What is WRONG with you,” Alistair growled checking her for further damage.

Hawke knelt beside her and patted her on the shoulder. "You milady inhaled a rather noxious poison. One that Fenris had the foresight to bring an antidote for."

* * * * * *

Fenris stalked away seemingly disinterested in her well being now that she was out of immediate danger. She looked at the empty vial and realized with a start that she recognized the bottle. It was identical to the mystery vials given to her by Hope.

"It is a poison favored in Seheron by the Qunari. With the Arishok's death, and the Qunari departure from Kirkwall, much of their stock was raided," Fenris rumbled, searching the room for something. “We have yet to destroy it all.”

“You sure spend an awful lot of time on your back Tricky,” Varric said with a grin. She decided to take his jibe as an opportunity to distract herself. She didn't want to think about what she'd remembered. There was plenty of time to agonize over the details later.

Luna tried to snort, but her face was still puffy from crying, and it sounded more like she was choking on something. "What can I say. Dealing with you assholes makes me need to lie down. Maybe I should just leave Kirkwall, it hasn't been good for my health," she commented wryly as she sat up.

Varric smirked at her, then handed Turrik a missive, she had a feeling he was up to something. Then again, when was Varric NOT up to something. He probably knew she was using him to hide. Rolling her eyes she stretched experimentally saying, "That's an amazing antidote Fenris, I feel totally fine."

Fenris raised an eyebrow then glared at her. "Your recovery is actually quite remarkable, it should have taken much longer to achieve its full effect … if at all."

She blinked at him as she processed what he was saying. "Huh. Weird." Saying nothing further about it she fled, using the children as an excuse to avoid any further conversation on the topic. It figured, just what she needed, something else to set her apart from the rest of the 'normal' people.

“You had your friends worried there,” Alistair commented. The Warden hovered near her, refusing to let her out of his sight.

“Friends … in the most distant sense of the word I'm afraid. More like grudging acquaintances.”

He looked hurt, and Luna realized how that had sounded. “Except you Alistair,” she amended. “I'm fine. Go find us something nice before Hawke and his gang steal everything.”

He reluctantly complied though he still looked troubled. “Money won't do you any good if you're dead Luna …” he sighed, trudging away.

Hawke had already begun looting anything that looked to be of value while Fenris ensured the passages remained clear of further smugglers. Luna was just glad she could breathe, and found herself rather enjoying having little ones to worry about. It was mundane and familiar. Varric watched her quietly for a moment.

“I never imagined you as the mothering type.”

“Shows what YOU know Varric. I AM a mother remember?”

“Finally opening up to me? It's the chest hair isn't it.”

“Ah yes. The allure of your fuzzy exterior has finally breached my stony heart. Well done.” Sarcasm was familiar, it worked like a balm for her soul.

“I knew it.” Varric winked and joined Hawke in searching the den for valuables. She didn't begrudge Hawke his looting, especially when he handed her some choice pieces of armor that he'd found neatly packed away. "Gore free!" he'd declared with a wink and she couldn't help but smirk. The Mage was growing on her, even if he was a little unpredictable.

“Hawke … have you spoken with Anders lately?”

“Just this morning. Why?” the Mage said his ears going pink.

She gathered a little girl in her arms and set her on her hip. It felt natural, and she pushed thoughts of Flynn aside. “Well, I haven't spoken to him in weeks, but I know he has … contacts. These,” she said gesturing to the children, “were headed to Tevinter. They were stolen from Fereldan. You'll notice they're all elves? I doubt it's a coincidence, it's most likely Anora's handywork.  I want them away from Kirkwall. Aida here has expressed an interest in Antiva.”

Hawke gave her a piercing stare which she met sternly. “I could … ensure they never see the inside of the Circle again. But it would require coin.”

“I don't care about the cost. You can more than afford it, and I can pay you in installments if you prefer. I'll patent one of my devices.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Something I ask every day.” Alistair quipped from across the room.

“Shut it ex-Templar!” She said with no real rancor. Turning back to Hawke she continued, “I'm not a monster Hawke. Chantry slave or Tevinter slave, what's the difference. It's still slavery. No one deserves that. Besides ...”

“Mages know nothing of slavery,” Fenris interrupted angrily, "They are educated and live in luxury, protected from each other and those outside the Circles." Luna bristled at this and ground her teeth.

One of Luna's pet peeves was being interrupted. Since coming to Thedas her fuse had grown even shorter. Perhaps it was the stress of the day, or perhaps she was simply looking for a fight. Whatever the reason, she was instantly angry. Hawke and the others watched in surprise as an argument erupted.

“Bullshit. You can't honestly tell me being locked in a tower, watched **24/7** , told what to eat, what to think, what to wear, where to go, who you can LOVE, having your children STOLEN from you at birth, and being summarily sent to war without any say in the matter ISN'T a form of slavery.”

Fenris immediately matched her tone for tone countering, "Real slaves have no personal property. They ARE property. Slaves aren't taught to read, they aren't taught anything other than how to be a good slave. Their lives have no value other than what their masters decide their value is. Starvation is a common way to die among true slaves. The Circles may not be perfect but look at the alternative, Tevinter is overrun by Blood Mages."

Aida squirmed in her arms uncomfortably, and she resettled her. "Slaves are taught the skills that their Masters need them to know to be as useful as possible. Slaves used for mining are taught to mine. Slaves used for farming are taught to farm. And slaves used for Magic are taught to read, write, and practice their art. All in name of their Masters. A gilded cage is still a fucking cage."

"All MAGES have the potential TO ABUSE MAGIC!" The little girl curled into her side and shoulder at his angry outburst.

The tone of Luna's voice dropped menacingly. "All **sentient** beings have the POTENTIAL to commit abuse. You don't need magic for that. Do you lock up everyone with a dagger, crossbow, or sword? You're saying they should be accountable for their POTENTIAL danger? I don't know, like what ... a slave being BRANDED with Lyrium by his Master?” If the conversation had been tense before it was damn near explosive now. “Well then why don't we just FUCKING LOCK YOU UP AS WELL? You're obviously dangerous. Why who knows the next time you might phase an arm into a RANDOM INNOCENT for absolutely NO reason?!" She had leaned in closer, raising her voice.

"I do not have the potential to become an ABOMINATION!" he roared in her face as they were practically nose to nose now.

Alistair grabbed Luna by the shoulders, as Turrik gently pulled the little girl from her arms and set her down with the others. Hawke had similarly pulled Fenris away, though with greater force, and looked at them both chidingly. "Well, I guess the entire coast now knows which side of the argument you lie on. Might I suggest we table this discussion for later, perhaps when it can be discussed without resulting in bloodshed? Now, kiss and make up."

Fenris snarled, while Luna folded her arms and glared.

Varric began laughing. "Look on the bright side! We all agree that Slavery is evil!" Luna's lip twitched as she resisted the urge to smile at him. Fenris however still looked ready to kill her.

Raising an eyebrow Varric strode over to stand beside her as Hawke again attempted to mollify the ex-Slave. He gave her a knowing smirk and leaned in close, whispering, "Not that I don't think you made a convincing argument … “ The dwarf was looking entirely too smug. “But don't you think that was a little harsh?"

“Harsh? No, I don't think it was harsh. I think he deserved every word. It's not like he was exactly even tempered.”

Varric eyed the elf in question who was still fuming. Hawke seemed to be having trouble calming the warrior down. “Look who's talking … he IS the one who just saved your life, and let you have a good cry on his shoulder. Just saying, you should probably cut him some slack.”

“That asshole has been pestering me for MONTHS. I'm grateful for the antidote, I really am, but I'm not going to back down while he hounds innocent children.”

“Well, you should probably tell HIM that … the grateful part.”

Luna huffed in annoyance and finished readying the children for the long trek when Fenris broke free from Hawke's grasp. He stood in front of her once again, blocking her path.

"I do not trust you." he snarled.

His attitude was starting to grate on her already frayed nerves. "Well I don't trust you either, you're too good looking to be trust worthy.” He looked taken aback by her snark. “I have an Idea, how about you get a few scars on that pretty face, and I'll think about the whole … trust issue." She apparently had no filter today. Ignoring the snickers around her she finished adjusting her newly pilfered shin guards.

Fenris was clearly growing more angry. She hadn't realized that was even possible at this point. Varric shot Hawke a warning look as they both ceased what they were doing and moved to intervene. Alistair shoved the children behind him and prepared to draw his sword. "Do you think this is a game?!" Fenris roared.

Luna paused, mulling over the irony of the statement, and completely lost it. However when Fenris attempted to grab her she ceased laughing and immediately twisted him onto his back, his arm still in her grasp. Leaning over she growled out, “Thank you. For saving my life.” He looked up at her in surprise, but she had already turned towards the exit, and stalked out of the cavern muttering curses to herself. Turrik and the children quickly followed after her.

* * * * * *

“Why Is EVERYONE in Kirkwall INSANE?” Alistair shook his head and ran after Luna, his armor creating a racket he made no attempt to conceal.

Varric guffawed at the bewildered elf saying, "Well Broody, imagine that. She thinks you're pretty." He strode after the angry woman before Fenris could retort.

Merrill smiled at Hawke saying, “Well, I agree with her. He is rather handsome in a gloomy sort of way. Now if only we could get him to smile.” She continued more seriously, “Hawke. I'm worried about her. She seems to grow angrier every day. You should speak to her, even if you only understand about half of what she's saying.” She abruptly ran outside to join the others.

Hawke helped Fenris to stand and looked disappointed. "You couldn't have waited until the children were off our hands?"

"And just what DO you plan on doing with them? You'll no doubt object to taking them back to where they BELONG." Fenris was in no mood to be polite.

"They BELONG with their families. But you're right, I won't take them to the Circle. They don't want to be there Fenris. Anders will use his connections to safely see them away from Kirkwall, WITHOUT them becoming slaves in Tevinter."

"You are naive Hawke. They are dangerous."

"They're children Fenris."

"Children grow up."

"Are you suggesting we prevent that eventuality?" he asked deadly serious.

The elf looked horrified, "NO of course not! That wasn't ... "

"You're avoiding the topic at hand. Why are you being so hostile towards Luna?"

"I don't trust her."

"Yes, you've made that abundantly clear. To everyone. Why? She has made every attempt to help us in our endeavors. Granted, she has a temper, but her actions speak well of her."

Fenris shook with anger, the last thing he needed was for Hawke to turn on him. He couldn't fend off all of Danrius' forces on his own, and his master was bound to return for him. He finally made his concerns known to Hawke in a rush of words, born of frustration.

"She drew power from me Hawke. She reached out and took the power Danarius etched into my flesh. It cannot be a coincidence that she knows of Hadriana. I don't understand why you are not suspicious. You and Anders claim she is not a Mage. Then how could she have used the Lyrium.” Fenris began pacing back and forth, clearly agitated. “Everything about the woman irks me. Her name is obviously of Tevinter origin, and she speaks languages none of us recognize. She is hiding things beyond her claims of coming from another world. That woman aims to change who sits on the Throne of an entire Kingdom!"

Hawke went to place a comforting hand on Fenris' arm but he shook it off. Hawke frowned but continued, "Then what better place for us to keep an eye on her, than standing at our side?" The elf began to relax. "I share your concerns my friend. I promised to help you defeat your former Master. I do not take oaths lightly, and I am not a fool. If Luna's an agent of Tevinter I will personally help you deal with the problem. If she's not, then we will have gained another talented ally. But in order for that to happen, you must control your ire."

Fenris reluctantly nodded. He could see the logic in this course of action, and felt better for having finally discussed it with the Champion. "Very well, but I will hold you to your word."

The Mage laughed, in good humor again, saying, "I would expect nothing less."

Having concluded their disagreement the two friends left the cavern. Hawke had no idea how he would salvage the rest of the journey, but it would be interesting. Perhaps Fenris would have an opportunity to vent his anger on someone daft enough to confront them. As Varric so often reminded him, attacking them was suicide.

Once everyone was gathered outside, tempers seemed to have cooled. The entourage headed to make camp unaware of the keen eyes that followed them.

 


	24. ENCHANTMENT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.

Luna's dreams had returned to what constituted normal for her in Thedas … which meant tedious. So far she and Anders had found no real explanation for her non-connection to the Fade. Though she'd told him nothing about the voices that had called to her in the darkness. The last thing she needed was for him to assume it was a demon.

_More like you're afraid it WAS a demon. At least this doesn't seem to be inhibiting the rest of our research. I just wish I had better explanations than 'Well you're an alien.'_

Anders would observe her while she cast, and had given her pointers on improving her efficiency. They had experimented with teaching her the magics of Thedas, but so far she could only sense that magic was being used. She could not wield the spells themselves. When she had told him about her immunity to the Templar Silence she thought Anders was going to pass out from excitement. She'd laughed at him when he said he wanted to test it and she'd pointed out they'd probably need a Templar to do that. He had immediately dropped the idea.

She and Alistair were barely making ends meet. Money was evil no matter what universe you were in apparently. It also didn't help that she found out Anders had been doing without meals and giving what he could to the poor. She now made sure that he got more than ale every day, adding to her mounting expenses. The cot in her room was killing her back. She would buy a better one but she couldn't afford it.

Hopefully that would soon all change. Varric had kept her awake the previous night going over contracts for several of her smaller inventions when she'd finally explained a few of them. The first item she 'invented' was small, very small, but it was potentially the most dangerous. The unassuming screw, had yet to be invented in Thedas. Heated bolts, and nails were common, but the screw had been a catalyst for change on Earth. The machine she remembered could make them uniform in size and shape, actually making it two inventions.

Her next patent was the screwdriver. With all the screws that could potentially be made, it stood to reason they'd need a way to put them to use. The final item representing her foray into business, for now, was the multi-tool. Nothing world breaking there, just an easy way to transport several small tools at once.

Varric had even helped her draft the blueprints, all she needed was for the Merchants Guild to approve the paperwork. The dwarf assured her that he would see to it that they did. All for the low price of a third of the profits. Initially there had been some haggling over his percentage. Then he'd pointed out that getting two thirds of SOMETHING was better than getting all of NOTHING. She had relented.

Luna had been spending a lot more time with Hawke lately. He'd warmed up to her in the weeks since the incident in the smuggler's cavern. Aveline still avoided her like she had some communicable disease. Luna had gradually let her grudge against the companions fade. She was just too infatuated with the idea of becoming their friend, even if they thought she was a spy from an unknown nation.

All in all she was getting along with them. Well, most of them. Fenris seemed to be the only exception. Nothing she said to him ever seemed to be the right thing. They spent every interaction either fighting, or on the verge of it. He was the most intractable, obstinate, male she had ever had the misfortune of meeting. She wasn't sure why she let it bother her so much. It wasn't like she hadn't known what kind of elf Fenris was from the beginning.

A steady pounding on her front door had her falling out of bed as she searched for her discarded clothing. Luna could hear Anders and Alistair bantering in the front room, it was sort of cute. She preferred to sleep in the nude but Anders had a tendency of barging into her room. The healer strode in just as she pulled her trousers on. "Good morning Luna!" Anders was cheerful this morning, he was cheerful every morning.

"NO, it is not. It's a shining ball of fiery DOOM!" she grumbled, fixing her foot wraps. She could still only open her eyes halfway, and resorted to winking so at least one eye was open. “You realize its customary to wait until the occupant has invited you to ACTUALLY enter.”

He eyed her footwear dubiously ignoring her complaint. "I was hoping to catch you before you left this morning … Why don't you wear shoes?"

"One, these were a gift. Two, I can feel approaching enemies. And three, the shoes here make my feet hurt. Besides, I can't afford a cobbler to measure a nice pair for me.”

"Why don't you get boots?" he asked. "They would better protect your feet during a fight and are usually padded on the inside. Besides that, Kirkwall doesn't have the cleanest streets, don't you accidentally step in .... well … you know."

"Aww, Anders I didn't realize we'd reached the point in our relationship where you cared about my footwear. I'm flattered."

"Very funny."

"I thought so." Cheered up greatly after teasing him she popped her back and neck, much to his dismay. “Was there something you wanted Anders?”

He was looking at her rather intensely as he offered a hand to help her stand. “If only …“ He shook his head as though dismissing his thoughts before continuing. “Yes, I was wondering if you could help me procure some elfroot and embrium. I know you venture out of the city more often than I do. The clinic is running low.”

“I'm headed to Sundermount in the next couple of days with Hawke and Merrill so I don't see why I can't keep a look out. Don't suppose you'll be able to pay me this time?” Luna knew that Anders ran the clinic for free. There was no way he would be able to pay her for the herbs. Instead she planned on bringing back enough to sell to the merchant in the Gallows again to make up for it. Hopefully she'd be able to avoid a certain Templar while doing so. Wincing Anders confirmed her suspicions about payment, but swore he'd make it up to her somehow.

Alistair and Luna then left to meet Turrik, promising Anders that they'd meet later at the Hanged Man. Their employer had instructed her to meet him by the docks this morning. Hopefully that meant another shipment of Lyrium had arrived and they would be getting paid double to guard it on the way to the warehouse. Turrik never actually told her they were smuggling Lyrium into the city, but Alistair had also confirmed that the metallic smell was more than likely the magical substance. She was grateful when he didn't seem to exhibit any warning signs of craving the stuff.

Arriving on schedule Turrik had them standing about glaring at anyone that came near their ship. It was actually sort of boring. Since she'd started working for him she had broken peoples bones, cut off fingers, and generally put the fear of Luna into rival mercenaries. She had also taken her share of bruising, broken fingers, and knife wounds. Her ability to dodge incoming projectiles had vastly improved however, and she was quite happy she hadn't taken an injury in over a week.

Unfortunately, that meant that no one was really willing to rob Turrik just now. Alistair's impressive build also deterred would be rivals from poking their noses about. All in all they made a good team, though Alistair had been upset that they were helping smuggle Lyrium. It had also provided her with the opportunity to improve her healing spell. She had taken Hope's advice and abstained from singing, though she still couldn't help humming occasionally. If there had been any negative consequences to said humming, she had yet to notice it.

Luna watched every point of ambush, just because things were boring, didn't mean she would let her guard down. It wasn't until the cargo was safely stored that she gave a sigh of relief. Her part in this was over, it was Athenril's and her lackeys job to guard the stuff now. She had successfully escorted them to the warehouse without any harassment, and she smiled widely when Turrik slipped her payment to her. "Never had one go so smooth. Yer worth every coin. I'll contact ye for the next job in three months."

"Three months!?" she said surprised.

"Aye three months. I need to work out some contracts with the Merchants Guild and the Coterie is breathing down Athenril's neck; not to mention paying bribes to the Carta. I need to lay low till she's handled her end. That means paperwork, and I won't need ye guarding my quills and ink."

"Shit, what are we going to do for three months? I don't think I saved enough." Alistair shrugged at her, though he looked a little worried.

"That's yer problem." The old dwarf grumbled.

She shot him a glare that had him flinching. "I'm not without sympathy mind. But it is what it is." With that he slammed the door and she muttered angrily to herself before yelling at the closed door.

" **Gae-sae-kki Ga-tun NOM!** How are we supposed to eat?"

“Don't worry Luna, we'll think of something. If we have to we'll start selling the furniture. I might even be able to wheedle some coin out of Teagan if we need to.”

“It won't come to that. But a little advance warning would have been nice.” She divided their take and tossed Alistair a pouch of coin, which he took in surprise. “Time to join the adults Alistair.” He nodded mutely, then tucked the pouch into his shirt.

They began strolling toward Hightown as they continued conversing. She'd left her bracers at the Armorer's the previous week, and the repairs were due to be finished. Paying the woman would be painful, especially now, but the bracers were worth it. They worked perfectly with her half finger leather gloves, making her bow easier to use.

“Speaking of your … sorta uncle. Have you heard anything on that front,” she asked.

Alistair thought for a moment before replying, “He's convinced that we're right. Elves are vanishing all over Fereldan, and he says its too widespread to be the work of simple raiding parties. Even servants are going missing now. Most are dismissing it as a rise in discontent; that they are simply running away for a better life, but it doesn't ring true.”

Alistair glanced around to be sure no one was in earshot and continued quieter, “Anora also seems to have a fair bit of coin to throw around. Which is interesting considering the Treasury was near empty after they began the Restoration. Other Nobles have started to notice, and many of them weren't happy that she was allowed to keep the Throne in the first place.”

She nodded in approval, “So the question is … are they willing to back your claim. What does he think of your chances?”

“Anora made my claims legitimate when she confirmed my identity during the last Landsmeet. It was her hope that being a bastard would bar me from the Throne altogether. However because she's barren and refuses to wed, or name a successor, my status doesn't seem to bother the Nobility all that much. Her decision to banish me does nothing to diminish my eligibility for the Throne. I may be a bastard, but I'm an acknowledged bastard, and there are those that remember my role in defeating the Blight. Teagan will continue to rally support, while your 'Broker' friend spreads rumor and discontent. It's too early to say, but I'm optimistic.”

Luna gave him a crooked smile. Alistair sounded confident, and comfortable with the politics, it looked good on him. “I believe drinking so much for all these years may have saved your life Alistair.”

He sighed, and gave her a sad smile, “It kept her from thinking I was a threat. But that wasn't living. If anyone saved my life … it was you.” They continued to Hightown in silence. There was no need to say more.

They had concluded their expensive business with the Armorer and were debating where to eat lunch when she caught sight of something beautiful. Her sudden stop had Alistair running into her, though she hardly noticed.

It was a six stringed lute, and Luna wanted it. Picking up the instrument was like slipping on a well worn glove. Never mind that she had just lost her income for the next three months. She needed it; like birds needed sky, like a *carpenter needs a hammer … like a walrus needed oysters.

Alistair took one look at her face, gave her a knowing smile, and left for the Hanged Man. She cautioned him to keep an eye out for ambushes, but refrained from warning him away from alcohol. He needed to face this on his own, today was as good a day as any. He had called her a mother hen and Luna had promised to join him later.

Luna spent the next hour haggling the cranky old Orlesian merchant down to half of his asking price. She'd found flaws in the finish and a maker's mark that proved it hadn't been made by a master. Varric had been tutoring her on the finer points of trade in Thedas and she had never been more grateful for the lesson in Guild Markings. Neither she nor the merchant walked away from the deal completely happy, but she figured that meant it had been a fair trade.

Now she needed some place to practice without nosy Thedosians critiquing her. Lowtown was out of the question, she didn't want to risk the instrument being damaged in an attempted mugging while walking alone. Then she remembered that Hawke had invited her to his mansion. Making her way through the ritzy portion of Kirkwall, she got lost only once.

Once she arrived at Hawke's Estate she stood staring at the building in confusion. While it still gave her an eerie sense of deja vu, it didn't look quite as she remembered it. Hadn't the pillars been covered in ivy in the games?

_Eh, its not the only thing they got wrong, and it won't be the last. Seriously, get with the program, this is reality now._

It wasn't as close to the red lantern district as in the games either, but it was near enough that she would definitely give Hawke grief about it later. The family crests stood out, making the building easy enough to identify if you knew what you were looking for. Luna approached the doors and took hold of a large knocker. A few minutes passed when the doors finally creaked open. She smiled when she saw that Bodahn was the one that had answered.

"Can I help you miss?"

"Oh, yes, sorry. Hawke invited me to see his mansion and I found myself with nothing to do today. He wouldn't happen to be ... home?"

"You must be Lady Luna! Of course! Come in, come in. I'll let him know you've arrived."

"He's still asleep isn't he." she stated with a grin, following the dwarf.

Bodahn smiled saying, "Well, he did arrive rather late. I believe Master Tethras demanded the chance to earn back his losses."

Luna rolled her eyes, "Does Hawke even KNOW when to quit? Let me guess Varric cleaned him out."

A loud cheery voice interrupted them saying, "I only lost half I'll have you know!" Hawke strode down the steps and stunned Luna by trapping her in his bear like embrace. "Finally decided to see what you're missing squatting in Darktown?" Hawke was waggling his eyebrows and Luna snorted, punching him on the arm.

"You're confusing me with a certain Apostate. I can't breathe in Darktown remember?”

“Where did you end up? I'd have bought you something nice.”

“Near the Alienage ...”

“I'm sorry I didn't realize you were elven.”

“I'm not.” Hawke gave her a strange look, but she didn't elaborate. Along with recent changes in ear size, she had also gained several inches in height, and had noticed her nails were growing more claw like. She kept them groomed and hid her ears. Luna didn't know what she'd do if she started growing a tail next, but she had some interesting ideas.

Turning to Bodahn, Luna realized she hadn't officially asked for his name. "That was rude of me Master Dwarf, what might your name be so I can properly address you when next we meet?"

"No need for formality miss. Bodahn Feddic, at your service. Hawke has been kind enough to let me and ma boy stay in the mansion. You haven't met Sandal yet have you, SANDAL! Come meet the nice lady friend Hawke invited over." Hawke sputtered, much to the amusement of the dwarf, as he tried to reassure Luna that this had not been a romantic invitation. Luna found it terribly funny and simply raised an eyebrow at him.

Sandal strode into the room, looking very much like his computer generated counterpart, and turned his vacant stare in her direction. His hair was longer than she'd expected, and was tied back in a small ponytail. There was something unnerving about the way he moved that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She was startled when he smiled widely, charged towards her, and hugged her tightly before pulling back while still holding her arms.

"ENCHANTMENT!" he cried and Luna couldn't help but return his enthusiasm.

She chuckled looking at Bodahn for clarification. "Enchantment?"

Sandal gripped her arms painfully, and whispered, "You're awake now. Dreams can be real when they make you bleed. The voices of the void call, but they also listen." Luna paled, it was cryptic, but she was pretty sure she'd understood most of that. He let her loose just as quickly and she rubbed her bruising skin.

Hawke observed them silently, and she wondered if any of that had made sense to him.

Bodahn wrung his hands nervously. "I'm sorry, I forgot to mention he's Lyrium addled. Found him like that. Wouldn't trade the lad for anything mind you."

"Nice to meet you Sandal ... " She blinked in surprise when she found Sandal standing very near her and slowly running one of his large hands along her neck. Bodahn shifted nervously, looking between the two of them. She knew he was worried about her reaction to Sandal. She wondered how often introductions went horribly wrong.

"Enchantment!" Sandal exclaimed once again, walking over to the work table in the corner.

"Well, I've never seen him take to someone so quickly."

"I hope that's a good thing."

"Oh it is, don't worry he seems to have decided to give you a present. Sometimes its just best to let him work."

"I think I'm jealous. Bodahn makes me PAY for my enchantments," Hawke said leading her into what appeared to be his study. He poured her a glass of something that smelled like brandy. Pulling her new lute from her back she took the glass and sipped it gratefully.

"Are you drunk ALL the time Hawke?" she asked, pulling the Lute into her lap and settling into a large comfortable chair. She sighed in relief as it supported her aching spine.

"Drunk! Never. Happily intoxicated at the most."

"That's the same thing Hawke. I'm sure the other occupants of this ridiculously large house must mind."

"I beg to differ.” He tossed back his entire drink in one gulp looking a little upset. Luna literally bit her tongue, feeling like a dunce. Hawke was still mourning the loss of his mother. No wonder he was drinking all the time. This huge mansion, and he had no family to share it with. She would have lost herself to spiraling guilt if he hadn't quickly changed the subject. “Why do you have a Lute? Come to torture me with your attempts at becoming a Bard?”

Luna made a face. "Bleh, no thank you. I have no interest in Orlesian politics. A traveling minstrel? Maybe.”

“Wouldn't that be dangerous considering what happened the last time you sang?"

“It took quite a bit of effort to pull off that healing trick. I hope I can just … sing without it causing weird shit to happen. I was actually wondering if you would let me practice here. I haven't played one exactly like this before."

"By all means, strum away. Though I'd refrain from actually using that lovely voice of yours. I rather like my home. I've several errands to run so you'll only be bothering Bodahn and Sandal. I shouldn't be long."

"Where's Orana?" she asked turning the pegs to tune the Lute.

Hawke paused at the door asking, "Who?"

Luna flinched slightly at her mistake. "Oh. What? Oh, never mind, you'll see eventually." She busied herself with tuning the strings. Hawke stared at her making a weird face. “What,” she asked trying to appear innocent. After a beat Hawke continued out the door and left the estate.

_I'd make such a terrible spy. I wish we could just find and kill Dan-hairy-ASS. Eww. Never saying that out loud either. Of course it only makes sense in English ..._

The fingering was closer together than she was used to, but it didn't take long for her to adjust to it. She ran through several scales stretching her fingers as they remembered the feel of playing. This was nothing like the decrepit instrument laying in the Alienage, the sound was rich, and made her shiver.

_Didn't they use cat gut in the middle ages? Wait ... no they found out it was mistranslated. Horse hair right? This feels like hair. Makes more sense, flesh would be brittle and rot wouldn't it? I have the loveliest thoughts._

She started with a couple of basic melodies, settling on a rendition of [**Greensleeves**](https://open.spotify.com/track/0c7Wr38sfftZ6YTAK7xErE?si=w5XltQZJSLSQsFAynLrpcw). It had an archaic sound to it that she figured no one would think out of place. She didn't sing, focusing instead on familiarizing herself with the instrument, and changing the fingering if it felt uncomfortable. Playing it brought back memories of the many Yule celebrations she'd attended with Marcus.

The ancient holidays could be very raucous and she remembered them fondly. The solstices and equinoxes were her favorite. Mayday had always been a special occasion. How could it not be with all those people dancing in circles around a giant phallic symbol. Of course she'd also enjoyed the spiked punch, honey mead, or eggnog they'd consumed depending on the season. Although she also appreciated good Glühwein. Warm drinks were a necessity when dancing skyclad.

A cover of Simon and Garfunkel's [**'The Boxer**](https://open.spotify.com/track/6HopKFVZmGU3YQF5Ac3EXa?si=EvQewt5ZTRmklEzvaVTY_Q) floated through Hawke's Estate next, bringing her mood down a little. This one she gave into singing under her breath, quietly in English, relishing the powerful emotions evoked by the song.

She could feel something at the edge of her senses; two pools of power. One attracting, the other repelling, or as Hope had described it ... light and dark. She attempted to stay away from both. Her fingers began to cramp after that one and she decided to give them a rest.

Luna sipped the brandy Hawke had given her slowly, appreciating that it was definitely a higher quality alcohol than anything she'd had in Thedas to date. She looked at the dusty book shelves and wondered what would interest Hawke enough that he'd keep such a large library. Well, there were probably books on Magic, but he wouldn't keep those in the open would he? She began perusing the tomes when she found a shelf that was suspiciously devoid of any dust.

The books here had spines that were more worn from use. Since these were hand bound and not made in any factory, there were no printed titles. Reaching for the nearest one she nearly dropped it when she opened to the first page. Instead of a treatise on Magic or a collection of lectures, she was greeted by the colorful image of an amorous couple.

After quickly flipping through the pages it proved to be an illustrated guide; it was extremely detailed. The artist had gone to great length painting various expressions of pleasure on the subjects faces. There was even a section dedicated to same sex coupling and thorough instructions on how to keep multiple partners … engaged. "Oh my ..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gae-sae-kki Ga-tun NOM! :  
>  **Punk Son of a Bitch!**  
>  **(literal) Dog-offspring like punk/bastard(male)**  
> 
> 
> *Reference to Lewis Carroll's 'The Walrus and the Carpenter' from 'Through the Looking-Glass.'
> 
>  **Greensleeves** : version by Phillip Lester  
>  https://open.spotify.com/track/0c7Wr38sfftZ6YTAK7xErE
> 
>  **The Boxer** : by Simon and Garfunkel  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/76TZCvJ8GitQ2FA1q5dKu0
> 
> cover -https://open.spotify.com/track/0c7Wr38sfftZ6YTAK7xErE?si=w5XltQZJSLSQsFAynLrpcw


	25. AMBIANCE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Luna replaced the naughty book on the shelf and checked another one. She was similarly rewarded for her curiosity with more lewd drawings. This one was filled with only women, the next she braved with only men, and she fought down her laughter. The last thing she needed was for Bodahn to walk in asking questions. She continued her search through the shelf and found that Hawke actually had smutty literature as well. Finding one with plenty of accompanying drawings she made her way back to the chair.

This was the most fun she'd had in months, and she was curious to see what passed as acceptable writing in Thedas. She wasn't disappointed. Whoever had written this had a fairly large vocabulary. This was turning out to be a rather interesting way to learn more words. Though she doubted most of these would be appropriate to utter in public.

Hawke returned with Anders in tow to find her laying in the chair, one leg dangling over the side, kicking back and forth. She was holding the book sideways in an attempt to ascertain if the position being shown was even feasible. "You do know that's not how you read a book?" he asked in good humor. "If you need lessons I've already started teaching Fenris."

Luna rolled her eyes saying, "True, but this IS how you see if Cornelia's lover could really hold her in that position." She faced the spread towards them, pointing out specific details in the painting she was sure wouldn't work. "Although if you're giving lessons like THESE to Fenris you'd think he'd be a little less sour." Hawke seemed stunned, and gaped at her, unable to form a response. "See? There's no way that would ever work!"

"You're too young to look at these,” he finally managed to sputter.

Luna gave him a weird look, "Oh please, I'm older than the both of you." Her declaration made Anders stare at her, but she was too busy trying to fend off Hawke to notice.

Hawke tried to grab the book out of her hands but only succeeded in knocking it to the floor as they wrestled for it. "How did you even find this,” he exclaimed in obvious embarrassment. They continued their impromptu wrestling match throughout their playful bickering.

"If you want to hide something in a library you should dust more often," Luna said while giggling.

"What do my cleaning habits have to do with anything?!"

Grinning widely as she attempted to wriggle out of his grasp saying, "Well I noticed one of the shelves was MUCH cleaner than the others." Hawke paused, holding her down with a knee to her back. She tried to free her arm before he could pin it behind her. "The covers had seen ... more use ..." She freed herself and swept him to the ground ducking behind the chair. "Maybe you should invest in a servant to clean this MANSION of yours."

"Most of these books belonged to my grandfather,” Hawke muttered, his face burning bright red even as he laughed.

"Oh so you had a lusty forefather? This must be HIS smut collection! A likely story!"

Anders picked up the discarded text, scrutinizing the image in question carefully before saying, "No, that's completely possible ... I've done this one." He said it with such sincerity that Hawke and Luna stopped their absurd fight, and stared at the Healer for a breath. Anders smirked, and sat down on a nearby love-seat continuing to read the book. They both devolved to rolling on the floor, loud laughter echoing throughout Hawke's home. Luna couldn't breathe, her plans to tease Hawke had gone much better than planned.

They both came to a shaky stop when Sandal entered the room holding something out to her. Hawke released her, and she sat up, unsure how to handle talking to him. "Enchantment!" he announced, and thrust a wide necklace into her hands. It appeared to be made with plates of metal resembling pewter, though not as soft, with three polished gray stones that looked like they could have been plucked out of any ordinary stream. The stones had intricately carved runes that had been inlaid with a blue enamel of some kind.

Reaching out with her mind she noted that the energy remained firmly ensconced within, pulsing almost like a slow heart beat, and recognized the signature smell of Lyrium. She had been afraid she would absorb it immediately on contact, as she had the mystery necklace in Denerim. It appeared she was able to trigger what she actively absorbed.

_I must be adapting to Thedas ...or vice versa. Now if I could just gain a connection to the Fade so I could actually recharge naturally ..._

Absorbing the power from everything her companions owned would not have been greeted with enthusiasm. That, and the danger of touching Fenris, had given her reason to practice NOT taking in mana. Without the apparently constant effort of drawing in energy, she found that she was no longer as exhausted at the end of each day. 

Constant absorption of energy had been a necessity on Earth. There had been less of it available the larger the population had grown, and the effects of her abilities had been diminished. She knew her capacity for mana had greatly increased since coming to Thedas. Her reflexes and endurance had also drastically improved; far more than mere practice could account for.

Slipping on her new jewelry she felt a strange rush through her entire body. She looked at Sandal but he only answered with, "Enchantment." Shrugging she thanked him. Hawke walked over, curious, and waved a hand over it. She tested her theory about absorbing mana, and Hawke's spell completed successfully. He smiled at her, pleasantly surprised, as checking must have been a reflex.

He seemed happy with the results, "Well that's impressive. I've never thought of using it that way before."

"What? What did he give me?"

Anders examined the necklace as well, though she felt her blood heating when he continued staring at the stones nestled comfortably between her breasts. After quite some time he nodded in agreement with Hawke. "Are you sure Bodahn is giving this to her for free?"

Hawke shook his head, "I believe SANDAL is giving it to her as a gift. Bodahn is simply agreeing to it."

"But what does it DO?" she asked in exasperation.

"Enchantment!" Sandal cried happily.

'Ugh. Garrrreeeeetttt ..." she whined, running her palms over her face.

Hawke chuckled and finally answered her question. "They're enchanted to bend the Fade around the wearer when activated."

"Oh, it makes me invisible?"

"Not exactly. We were already in the room when you put them on. They don't render you invisible so much as make you harder to perceive. Anyone not already aware of your presence, or alerted to it, will simply fail to notice you. It's ingenious really, some wards use the same technique." Anders tried to poke the Runes as he spoke.

Sandal slapped his hand. "No. That's only for the moon."

Hawk stroked his beard saying, "You know Sandal, sometimes I think I'm beginning to understand you."

"Enchantment!"

"Um, so it's active now? How do I ... deactivate it?"

"You should just need to touch the Rune to deactivate the effect. Just remember they'll need time to replenish power after you do so. Though it should last a fairly long time. You must have activated them while putting them on."

"Hrmm. I need to test these. Who wants to scare some years off Varric?" Luna asked with a grin, strapping the lute to her back.

Sandal startled her when he held her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Enchantment,” he whispered, staring into her eyes with what appeared to be wonder.

* * * * * *

Bodahn extracted a promise from her to visit regularly as they left. She stopped in confusion when she noticed that the pillars of Hawke's mansion were now covered in Ivy. “Ummm … Hawke. Was this like this … when you left?” she asked gesturing at the obvious plant growth.

“I'm not sure. I think so,” he glanced at Luna's nervous expression and frowned. “Luna … were you SINGING? I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't!”

“WHAT!” she hissed. “I was barely whispering! It was more like humming!”

The trio stared at the plants and each other silently before Anders said, “Well … apparently you shouldn't hum either.” She groaned in acknowledgment.

_Is that why … the Tranquil freaked out at me?!_

The enchanted necklace was definitely working. It was slightly aggravating having to dodge every oblivious person. Anders and Hawke began wagering on which individuals had the best chance of running into her. Luna was gratified when they paid her a small sum when she managed to navigate Hightown without incident. After about ten minutes the effect wore off and she felt the magic dissipate.

When they arrived at the tavern she reactivated the enchantment, making sure to stay behind the two Mages, and hopefully out of sight. Merrill was buying drinks at the bar and waved enthusiastically to Hawke. Luna refrained from touching anything, and stalked up behind Varric. He was regaling Fenris with a story about dwarven culture that seemed to actually interest the elf. Alistair appeared to be bored, but was enthusiastically attacking a bowl of stew.

She wasn't certain, but she thought Fenris' ear twitched, as she approached the backside of the dwarf. Merrill seemed to have noticed her and followed her with her eyes. Did the Dalish have a type of second sight that Circle Mages lacked? If so she would be very interested in sharing notes with the bloodmage. Finally in position Luna grabbed Varric by the shoulders, shouting at the top of her lungs, and watched the hilarity unfold.

Hawke and Anders had been expecting it and simply laughed heartily. Fenris drew his weapon in a flash, which led to everyone in the tavern following suit. Alistair managed to keep his bowl from finding the floor, but had been similarly startled. Varric spilled his drink, and tumbled to the floor, his short legs futilely kicking at the air. Luna took the remainder of the dwarf's drink, knocking it back, then slammed the mug onto the table with a flourish. Taking a seat between Hawke and Anders she gave Varric a crooked smile as he cursed her ancestors.

"Oh come on Varric! Where's your sense of humor?" said Luna cheerily. Fenris shook his head but sheathed his sword, much to the relief of the other patrons. Weapons were secreted away and conversation resumed. "Everyone else seems to think it was funny." Setting the lute next to her, she kicked her legs up on the table, wiggling her toes at him.

"Tricky, you'll get yours. Just you wait."

"Bring it on _**Durgen'len**_." she said stretching out while balancing the chair on its back legs.

"I've been meaning to ask you. You've been calling me that for a while … Dur whatsit? What does it mean?" Varric didn't seem to be holding a grudge.

"It means Child of the Stone in Elvish. Dwarf basically." Luna began tuning her lute while she spoke precariously balanced on her chair's back legs. Her idle twiddling began drawing attention.

"Oh, I didn't know you spoke Elvish Luna." Merrill said handing her a drink as she sat down. "It's unusual for anyone outside the Dalish to speak it."

"Um. Only a little. I have a knack for learning languages. And I find the ancient _**Elvhen**_ fascinating."

Fenris was still scowling at her. "You should refrain from foolishness in the future, I could have killed you."

Luna couldn't help herself and snarked, "You could TRY."

Before he could retort Hawke placed a hand on each of their arms. "Can we have one night where you two behave? I just want to have a nice, quiet drink with my friends." Setting her chair back on the floor with a thunk, Luna returned to strumming the lute idly, changing fingerings to stretch her hands.

"Luna can you actually play that thing, or is it just for show?" Varric asked changing the topic with a grin.

"I can play, the question is how well. Besides I doubt I know anything you're familiar with."

"I don't think anyone would mind."

"I really think I need a little more practice before I play anything in public..."

"Come on, I haven't heard any music since the last guy took a Qunari blade to the throat. You can't be that bad." Everyone snickered at his last comment.

"Well ... give me a minute. I've been given strict instructions not to sing,” she said waving away Hawke's concern. “But I can still play. What kind of song do you want?"

"Something relaxing would be nice." Varric said bridging his cards.

"Relaxing. Hrmmm." Luna spent the next ten minutes running through the catalogue of songs in her head before finally choosing one. It was hard to find one that didn't require accompaniment or singing to complete the tune, and settled on something Korean. She practiced the fingerings without plucking the strings to refresh her memory. Finally she announced to Varric that she thought she might have one. "It might sound different from what you're used to ...”

"Stop stalling and just play it already."

Luna strummed the opening lines as everyone turned to listen. She probably would have been nervous if she'd known how many were paying attention, but she had already lost herself in the [**Music**](https://open.spotify.com/track/6cIOlyuaojVDCBJwsJzcnn?si=WJGWtVb-QaaZpqlIvwtfWg). It was full of melancholy, as with most traditional Korean music. As a people, they took great pride in the crafting of tales of perfect woe and heartbreak. It was beautiful, and she welcomed the familiar ache as she played.

She remembered the first time she'd played this song for an audience. Most days she'd only had her beat up guitar for entertainment, as the homestead shared a single computer. Playing it one lazy summer night had started an impromptu gathering. They had huddled together, simply listening as she played. Despite the lack of a roaring bonfire, she felt the fireplace did nicely as a substitute.

When she opened her eyes she was surprised to find that many of the patrons had moved closer to their table. There was neither cheering, nor raucous applause, but she had several coins tossed onto the table as they turned to leave. She was pleasantly surprised, it wasn't a lot of money, but it would be enough to buy a meal or two.

Glancing at Varric, she fidgeted and asked, "Well?" She was getting a little concerned as no one was talking.

Merrill was the first one to speak, she looked contemplative, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "By the Creators Luna, you play beautifully,” she breathed.

Luna made a face, clearly not used to compliments. "Ummmm. Thank you?"

Anders nodded in agreement coming out of his stupor. "What ...what is the song called? Merrill is correct, you are beauti … I mean you play beautifully." Anders looked away quickly but had given her a look that took her breath away.

She couldn't help stammering a bit. "I ... it ... it's called 'About 500 years' and I'm glad you enjoyed it. It ... it's from my mother's people." She smiled shyly and continued to strum the lute. She absently picked out an old Celtic ballad. Who could have guessed she was destined to become the Tavern ambiance.

"Your mother's people? They were different from your fathers?" asked Merrill.

She chuckled saying, “My mother was from a different nation called the **Republic of Korea** … I'm actually considered … a half-breed.” Luna grimaced at the term but couldn't think of another way to explain it in Common. She shouldn't have mentioned it in the first place and cursed her big mouth. There were likely much better ways of conveying that piece of information, but she never claimed to be eloquent.

Merrill and Hawke shared a glance before she asked, “Are you elf-blooded Luna?”

Luna sighed saying, “No. It's … complicated.” She refused to elaborate and the others gave each other nervous glances at her icy demeanor. Luna was not comfortable telling the elves they didn't exist on Earth. Hopefully they didn't just think she wanted to keep her heritage hidden, but that was a risk she was willing to take for the moment.

Anders chimed in, breaking the tension, "What's THIS song called? It sounds different. Are all the songs you know so ... sorrowful?"

"Hmmm? Oh, [**Sad Celtic Classical Guitar Balad**](https://open.spotify.com/track/05UFqRWKQFGTZG5KLQMqys?si=yf3eqY-mRLapj5ZCBRKk3A). Good ear. It's from a totally different region. Sorry I don't have the words to fully translate this one. Um. Sad ... Old … Lute ... song?" That wasn't completely right but how was she supposed to explain that name? It wasn't poetic, it was just a descriptor. Thedosians wouldn't know what Celtic was anyway. "And no ... Most of my people seem to prefer songs about love; both the winning and losing of it. Well ... that and sex. " Fenris choked on his drink.

_Heh, gotcha wolf boy._

"I would say those are enjoyed by every people.” Anders quipped.

“You still haven't told us where YOU originate from," Fenris said quietly meeting her eyes as he regained his composure.

Her eyes never leaving his she answered, "You're right. I haven't. I'm from **The-United-states-of-America-planet-Earth-of-the-Sol-system-in-the-Milkyway-galaxy**.” She smirked knowingly at the strange looks she got. Luna had made sure to say it in a rush, so that it all sounded like one word.

“I don't think ... I can pronounce that.” Anders said shaking his head dubiously.

“Heh, it'd be funny to hear you try.” Varric was madly scribbling in his book, trying to remember all the syllables she'd just spouted no doubt. “That reminds me. I'm curious Varric, you're a writer. What exactly is a _**clæppan fösul**_ and why would you press it into a _**wilcuman scethia**_?" Fenris calmly took another sip of his wine and broke their staring contest.

_Another point to moi._

Merrill giggled at Luna. "Oh, I've read that one I think. I liked the pictures." Hawke glared at them both.

"What were you READING exactly?" Varric laughed as Hawke lunged for her, trying to cover her mouth.

"I was looking at some ... ack ... I was in Hawke's Library ... ouch stop it Hawke!" She elbowed him in the ribs. He stopped grabbing at her but continued to glare. Anders leaned in close and whispered the translation to her. His breath tickled her ear and sent a pleasant shiver through her. She felt her heart begin to race and licked her lips. She winked at Anders and he returned it with a grin. "Trust me guys. Hawke's smut collection has nothing on some of the songs I know. I'm from a nation of the sexually repressed. It's actually tame compared to..."

Varric looked at Hawke in mock astonishment while the Mage continued to fume into his drink. "I miss all the fun. I didn't know you three were so close Hawke."

"We're not. They just sticks their noses where they don't belong." Hawke said groaning in defeat.

"Are we still headed to Sundermount tomorrow?" Luna asked ignoring his pouting. Hawke made an affirmative sound, and she rolled her eyes. Merrill giggled as she whispered something into his ear, then poked the sulking man on the nose.

Luna stood, saying she was tired. She asked Alistair if he wanted to join her, but he smiled and told her that he'd offered to play cards with Varric. She was surprised when Anders offered to go with her, though Varric gave her a knowing smirk. No one seemed to think anything of it so she agreed.

They strolled through the dark city at a leisurely pace when she mentioned her intention to return to the Gallows to sell herbs. Even after she added that she meant to test her theory about the Tranquil; Anders was upset. He seemed disturbed, and warned her that she could be captured. She joked that he might need to find a more secure source for meals.

"You don't have to do that for me Luna. I can take care of myself. You've more than paid back any healing services I've rendered."

"That's not why I did it Anders," she said brushing her hand near his as they walked. "I pay for your meals because you're a good man. You should give yourself more credit."

He stopped and took her hand, holding it gently as he turned her to look at him. "You've a kind heart Luna. You deserve every happiness." He kissed her hand and she held her breath. He was caressing it with his thumb again. "But there is much ugliness in my life. It would be best if you stay away from me. This can only end in pain."

"What if I don't want to stay away?" She leaned in closer, standing on her toes, and brushed her lips gently across his. Her blood was racing and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in the moment. It had been so long since she'd felt anything other than anger or fear. He was attractive, witty, kind, and HERE. She felt her heart drop when he didn't respond.

Anders shook his head, gently releasing her hand, as she settled her feet again. "It's for the best. I've Justice to consider, and my cause to free the Mages. There's no room in my life for more milady. I'm sorry." He was gritting his teeth, and she was close enough to see the muscles in his jaw flexing. She at least understood rejection when she saw it, there was no need to make this anymore awkward.

She sighed, disappointed, but she could see where he was coming from. What could she offer him really? She was a vagabond claiming to be an alien, and her stay in Kirkwall was uncertain. If he wanted a tumble he could simply head to the Blooming Rose. She was a dangerous unknown; someone that his knowledge of Magic had been unable to explain. Anders was a flirt by nature, she'd probably misread him. It wouldn't be the first time this had happened to her.

"I'll ... ummm … I'm soooo ... I'm sorry I misunderstood,” Luna stammered. She walked away quickly, biting the inside of her cheek, and left him to stand alone. Her heart ached and she chided herself, it was only a silly crush. He called after her, but she wasn't looking for an explanation. At least everything had been cleared up, and she could stop making him uncomfortable.

She had almost reached her home before he was able to catch up, and by then she had her emotions firmly reined in. Luna wasn't sure what she had expected, a whirlwind romance with the rebel Mage? He was right, it would probably have ended in tragedy.

It was embarrassing that she'd read more into their growing friendship than he wanted. If he were going to sleep with anyone it would probably be Hawke; he was the hero of the story after all. Still, Luna was a stranger to Thedas in almost every sense, she craved connection, even intimacy. Loneliness ate at her.

_Maybe a stop by the brothel wouldn't be such a bad idea for me. Oh wait I can't afford it. Then there's that pesky thing called venereal disease. That would be fun. 'Um Anders remember how you wouldn't sleep with me? How do you cure such and such.'_

He tried speaking to her several times while she calmly opened her door. "I don't want things to be weird Anders. I made a mistake, just ... just forget anything happened. I don't want it to ruin our friendship." She gave him a smile that wasn't fooling either of them. This was unbearably humiliating. He bid her goodnight, and agreed that their friendship was important to him as well. She gently set her lute against the wall, having lost the will to play. Soon enough she was laying on her cot staring at the ceiling. How had she gotten his signals all wrong?

* * * * * *

Anders felt panic grip him as they discussed the possibility of her being locked in the Gallows. He'd been unable to stop himself from reaching for her, trying to keep her near him. Justice reminded him again of their plan to remain her friend. Urging him to push her away. His continued affections were misplaced, it was the time to put an end to this.

Anders felt the brush of Luna's lips against his and felt his body responding to hers. This was not going according to plan, he had braced himself for her anger. Yet she had responded to his warnings with eagerness. He stilled himself, refusing to respond, he and Justice had discussed this. It was hard to reconcile logical thought with the carnality of his desires but he somehow managed to retain control.

_We cannot be with her. She is a danger to us. Let her go._

He felt his heart clench as the clear disappointment flashed in her eyes at his apparent lack of interest. He had never refused to bed a woman before, and he hadn't realized how much he hungered for her till this moment. They had been edging around this for months. The truth was that he had even encouraged her affections.

"I'll ... ummm … I'm soooo ... I'm sorry I misunderstood," she said, fighting back her emotions. He watched as she clamped down on it, trying to snuff whatever yearning he had kindled within her. This wasn't her mistake, it was his. He was torn as he tried to think of a way to explain his behavior.

Anders called after her as she fled, Justice could stuff it, he wanted this woman more than he could describe. His mind was flooded with the desire to mold her body to his. He tried to calm his body as running after her in its current state would have been extremely uncomfortable. Justice reminded him it was for the best, she would move on now, find someone worthy of her attentions.

_Its what we wanted ... right?_

What could he offer such a brilliant woman? He had a barely adequate place to sleep, and it was located in the sewers. She deserved to be wrapped in silks, fed honey, and expensive wines. He was a renegade that barely knew how to care for himself most days. How long had he really thought he could entertain the fantasy of being with her?

_What would it be like to hold her in our arms?_

_Foolish Mage, she would destroy us._

She completely ignored him by the time he caught up to her and he realized the damage was already done. They finally talked a little, and she told him she valued his friendship, to forget her actions. How could he forget the softness of those lips or the touch of her hands? He retreated to his clinic after bidding her good night.

When he finally found his room, and lay in his bed, he felt his blood quickening once more at the thought of the kiss. The response of his body to hers had almost been painful and he thanked the Maker for robes. He lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Justice was right, he had to let her go. So why did it feel as though he'd made the biggest mistake of his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Song Luna Plays is called **Traditional Korean Folk Song: About 500 Years**  
>  by : Alberto Ginastera, Deion Cho  
>  https://open.spotify.com/track/6cIOlyuaojVDCBJwsJzcnn  
> 
> 
> Second Song Luna Plays is called **Sad Celtic Classical Guitar Ballad (Live)**  
>  by : Andrei Krylov  
>  https://open.spotify.com/track/05UFqRWKQFGTZG5KLQMqys
> 
> Common)  
>  clæppan fösul : **throbbing manhood**  
>  wilcuman scethia : **welcoming sheath**
> 
> (Elvish)  
>  Durgen'len : **child of the stone**  
>  Elvhen : **elven name for their own race (Literally) our people**


	26. PHOBIA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently my chapters have simply decided they'll be about 4k long. I've decided to stop fighting it. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Carrying her pack on this hike wasn't as bad as she'd feared it would be. Their pace wasn't leisurely, but it was a far cry from her frenzied escape from Amaranthine. The path was littered with gravel; gray stone blending with the surrounding mountain side. She was enjoying the fresh air, it was a nice change from the filth of the city. Luna had been looking forward to this trip for months, but hadn't had an excuse to see the Dalish. Part of her felt a little bad for using Merrill's need to her advantage, but a greater part of her felt satisfaction in ruthlessly pursuing her goals.

She couldn't help going over Anders' rejection even as she climbed. It had not put her in the best mood, and of course the others had noted it. Hawke asked her a question, and it took her a few moments to process that he'd even spoken. Chiding herself she finally responded. "I need to speak with the Dalish. If everything goes well I might be able to find a way home," she mumbled, ignoring the startled glances between them. "I've squatted in this horrible city for so long I'd started to forget … it doesn't matter, I need to find a way back."

Fenris looked surprised, "You plan on leaving Kirkwall after all this time?"

Somehow she managed to roll her eyes without tripping on anything and said, "I'm considering it. It probably wont be for some time regardless. I only came here by accident anyway, and Alistair will need to return to Fereldan eventually."

"You never did explain that bit Tricky. How do you ACCIDENTALLY come to a city like Kirkwall? It actually takes a little effort to get here if you haven't noticed." Varric was irritable, he had been complaining constantly about short legs being built for stairs and not mountain trails.

"Well you know I've been working for Turrik?"

"And by proxy Athenril. I'm pretty sure everyone in Kirkwall knows that by now." Hawke said before cursing as he stepped on a loose stone. She was doubly thankful that she wore footwraps, she was able to navigate the loose stones with no trouble. Fenris seemed to be at ease as well, and she had to admit he seemed graceful, even in the wilderness.

"Well, I picked him at random. They were closing the docks looking for ... well anyway they were closing the docks. Many of the ship's Captains were panicking because the guards were starting to inspect cargo holds. Turrik was throwing a fit trying to load his contraband onto the ship before it set sail without him. I offered my services, and had no idea where the ship was even going."

"That seems a dangerous undertaking," commented Fenris.

"Well it was that or stay in Denerim ... and that wasn't an option."

Varric huffed as he climbed up a steep part of the path saying, "Wait I remember hearing something about that. The Templars were hunting a renegade Apostate weren't they? Caused a huge fuss with the Merchants Guild." It was impossible to miss what Varric was implying.

Luna shrugged, "Well I'm no Apostate."

_Yeah ... they were totally hunting for me though. I totally murdered the shit out of Byron. I wonder if they'll ever really let that go. It was a rather public execution … and not a humane one either._

Fenris took the opportunity to needle her. "Yes, you're only an Abomination."

“I'm NOT an Abomination. No one's in this body of mine but ME,” she grumbled.

"You sure Anders, or Alistair haven't ... been there Tricky? You have been spending an awful lot of time alone with them." Varric asked with a smirk.

Hawke snorted, "If Anders stared at you any harder your clothes would light on fire."

"Arrgh, no Varric, on both counts. Besides … Alistair ... he's still recovering from years of drinking. It'd be like taking advantage of him.” Apparently this was a foreign concept and the others gave her strange looks. “Also, I'm glad I wasn't the only one misreading things with Anders. Figures … first guy to see me naked in years and he has no interest in getting me into bed. I think he has more of an eye for YOU Hawke." She snickered when Hawke tripped.

"Years? Now that's what I call a dry spell.” Varric said chuckling.

She shrugged, trying to hide just how frustrated she was, and failing miserably. "You have no fucking idea. The closest I've been to a naked man, in twelve years, was when I was cleaning vomit out of his beard.”

“Twelve??? What were you six!?”

Luna threw a small rock at the dwarf. “Seriously??? OLDER THAN I LOOK!”

“How old ARE you Luna?” Hawke asked as she scrambled up a boulder, trying to see farther up the trail.

She glanced down at the Mage and decided to be honest. “I'm thirty-five.” She rolled her eyes when Varric lost his footing again; too busy staring at her in disbelief to watch where he was going. Clearing her throat she continued, “Maybe … I'm just meant to be alone.”

“Oh come on, it can't be that bad ...” Varric muttered while regaining his footing.

“Varric the last time I was penetrated, it was by a crossbow bolt,” she growled. Whatever response he had prepared was lost in his shocked sputtering. Even Fenris chuckled at her crude humor and Merrill giggled while blushing. “Besides … Anders made it pretty clear that I should stay away from him last night." She couldn't help the bitterness in her voice.

Varric winced at her tone. "Ouch. That why you want to leave all of a sudden?"

"Back off Varric." she snapped, feeling slightly guilty about it afterwards. Luna really didn't want to think about it.

With her enhanced hearing she noted when Fenris became oddly quiet and she glanced back at him. He had stopped walking and was staring off to the left where the path diverged around a huge boulder. There were some herbs here she wanted to pick anyway so she joined him as she snagged a nice elfroot into her gathering pouch.

"Shhh," he urged.

She listened for whatever it was he had noticed but needn't have bothered. When the first bulbous body, and hairy chitinous leg came into view, she screeched bloody murder. Luna completely lost it and she found herself backing away in abject terror. She couldn't handle squishing a spider when they were only an inch across. Seeing one with a body large enough to ride was not something she was handling well.

As the creatures drew near, she flailed her daggers wildly in a blind panic. Two lucky swipes sliced three legs from one of the spiders charging her and she gagged in disgust. They were nearly silent, the only sounds coming from their moving legs, and the seeping wounds she had inflicted. It sounded similar to the straining of old leather, but was punctuated by the thump of their limbs impacting the rocky path. The scraping of their hard carapace against the stones seemed exaggerated and made her teeth hurt.

She barely felt a leg pierce her foot, pinning her in place, and she cast her shield as an act of desperation. Revulsion was cutting her reaction time, she stood frozen as electricity immobilized the spider, and it began to cook. She simply watched the arachnid as its leg hairs burned away and its impossibly long limbs smoked from within. Two spiders lay dead and burning at her feet and she still refused to move.

One of her companions had pulled her away from the husks, her foot already cauterized. All she could see were the vacant stares of too many eyes; the horrid arachnid's legs curling in death. She imagined their pincer like mouths tearing at her flesh. Her whole body seemed to be made of lead. She couldn't look away, couldn't breathe, couldn't THINK.

Fenris was finally able to reach her screaming mind when she felt the resounding crack of his slap across her face. She stared at him in shock, as she righted herself, forcing her hands to unclench. Her joints creaked, unwilling to relinquish their death grip on her daggers. She forgot to even be mad at the elf for hitting her. Apparently he had been forced to smack her twice, once on each side of her face.

"Woman are you here? Luna wake up!" He looked very worried for her, the first time she could recall seeing that particular expression on his face.

He had removed his gauntlet but she still tasted the tang of blood from her split lip. Fenris didn't know his own strength apparently. She swallowed and tore her gaze away from the spiders and hugged Fenris tightly, burying her face at his shoulder, as her body shook. Slowly she felt her heart begin to calm and her breathing ease.

The intoxicating aromas of Lyrium and leather were overpowering in this proximity. She let go of him quickly, apologizing for accosting him when he went unnaturally still. In hind sight she realized that she'd managed to touch him without any horrific consequences. The power of his brands remained untouched.

"What was that," Hawke asked in concern. “Are you alright?”

"I'm sorry, I forgot ... Giant Spiders in Thedas. Just … FUCK YOU THEDAS," she whispered. "I'm ... Spiders ... can't ..." She rubbed her arms trying to get feeling back into her limbs. "I'll be fine, I just wasn't expecting them to be … holy shit there are bigger ones aren't there." She tried not to think about that fact. How could she have forgotten about the GIANT SPIDERS???

Fenris watched her closely as Hawke examined her foot and tried healing her. He looked at her in apology when nothing happened. Still shaking slightly from her encounter with the spiders she leaned down and drew a healing Sigil above the wound. She heard Hawke's sharp intake of breath as the wound began to close. Luna was becoming more proficient, and her lip also healed, though it still left her footwrap charred and bloody.

Hawke watched in fascination commenting, "That's amazing, how are you doing that? I've never seen such a symbol before."

"So she heals, so does the other Abomination," Fenris growled. His dour mood seemed to have reasserted itself.

Hawke shook his head. "When will you learn to trust me Fenris."

"When will you stop surrounding yourself with creatures that may turn on you?"

"I keep YOU around don't I?"

Fenris glared at the Mage. "Amusing as this is. What was your point Hawke?"

Luna rolled her eyes at the both of them and said, "His point BROODY, is that I am not a Mage. I shouldn't be able to heal at all by your rules."

Hawke indicated her foot again and asked, "My spells will not touch you, and yet ..."

"You're spells won't. My abilities do. Simple as that."

"Yes, but WHY?" Hawke looked frustrated, but helped her to stand regardless. “Perhaps it's something you can teach??”

Luna adjusted her armor and raised an eyebrow. “Um ... 'Beyonder' remember? But I'd be willing to give it a try.” The smirk on his face when she said 'Beyonder' reminded her that he still didn't believe she was from another plane. She snapped at him in annoyance, “How many times do I have to explain this? Look if you don't believe I'm from another world there's nothing I can do about that. I have neither the time nor inclination to drive myself mad attempting to convince you." She stopped herself before she could say anything else. That had NOT been how she planned on broaching the subject again.

"The problem remains that you're aware; we don't all accept your story. How can you expect us to accept that you don't intend us harm? IF there's even a chance you lie, then we must ask ourselves why, and what it is you hope to achieve." Fenris spat.

"You are to judge me by my actions! I may not divulge every single detail of my past, but that's true of each of us. I never ask Varric about what happened to his brother. I never ask Hawke about his family. I never ask YOU about your time in Seheron. I DO that as a courtesy. Perhaps I deserve the same consideration?"

"I notice you left Anders out of your rather impertinent list." Hawke was not amused by her casual mention of his family.

"That's because, as Varric so painfully reminded me, I spend more time with him than any of YOU.”

“Why DO you spend so much time with the Healer?” Hawke's voice cracked a little and she took a closer look at him. He couldn't … was he JEALOUS?

Luna shrugged. “Less to hide I guess, he'd already found my journals. And ... because I might be able to cure him." The group stared at her. "It will take some more convincing, but I know things. It's not like I can kidnap him and force him to go with me to the Avvar."

_Well … maybe I COULD do that._

Hawke frowned, asking, "What have the Avvar to do with curing him?"

Luna tried not to watch as Merrill began dissecting a nearby spider. "The Avvar have no Circles, they have no Chantry protection during a Blight. They have their own Mages. And yet, they remain. They are not over run by Abominations. Did it never occur to anyone to ask WHY? Their villages thrive, their traditions are passed on. Their Gods continue to be worshiped. As I just said Hawke. I know things." Fenris seemed to be contemplating her words for once.

"And yet you plan on leaving with the Dalish,” the elf asked harshly.

"I never said I would leave with the Dalish." With that statement she felt her basic plan come farther into focus. She walked toward the main path and told them she was running on ahead. Luna didn't want to look at the crisped bodies of the Giant Spiders any longer but they seemed intent on harvesting them. If she could get Marethari to cooperate ... She took off up the path at a run, she was able to cover quite a distance without having to wait for Varric.

* * * * * *

The Dalish guards stopped her long before she reached the camp. Hawke and the others were still far behind her as she had cheated by using **Accelerate**. She estimated that gave her a good thirty minutes before the others arrived. There were some things she wished to discuss with the Keeper without their interference.

"Halt Shemlen, what business do you have with the Dalish?" asked the menacing looking guard. She noted that there were over a dozen arrows trained on her. Luna took a moment to appreciate their armor. She had always liked the Dalish aesthetic.

" _ **Andaran atish'an**_ ," she said startling the Dalish woman. "I've come to speak with Keeper Marethari."

"Elf-blooded? You've the look about you. The Keeper is not at the beck and call of every visitor."

"I am no ordinary visitor. I have need of her wisdom, and I do not wish to discuss it in front of Hawke."

"You are with Hawke?"

"Well, technically he is behind me somewhere."

"Wait here."

They allowed her into the camp, with a guard, and she was brought before the aravel of the Keeper. She was sitting quietly before a small campfire, and stood as Luna approached. Luna dropped to her knees, then folded them, lowering herself to the ground. Bowing her head to the ground with her hands covering her eyes, then she remained there. It was a traditional Korean bow to an elder, or one of high rank. It wasn't Elvhen, but she felt it couldn't hurt.

"Keeper Marethari thank you for seeing me." she said her face still firmly pressed down. She refused to rise until she was bidden to do so.

"I've never seen such an introduction child, what clan were you raised in that they would have you prostrate yourself in the dirt. I am no Queen. Look at me _**da'len**_ "

Luna rose into a sitting position, hands in her lap, and saw the Keeper wore a confused expression. "I was raised in no Dalish Clan Keeper. I simply believe that you are deserving of my respect. This is how I was taught to do so by my mother's mother. It is an old tradition. I am in need of your assistance wise one."

_The wise part being super debatable you intractable old bat._

"Such pretty words from a human child." She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

Sighing Luna lifted the hair from her left ear, turning her head so that Marethari got a clear view of the pointed ear. There was a sharp intake of breath from the old woman. "What trick is this? No human child bears the mark of Elvhen heritage in such a manner. Yet you are clearly not elven." The Keeper looked her over with new found curiosity.

"As you say. I am no child of the elves. Nor am I human. Though it grieves me to see what has become of the People. Keeper Marethari. I know that you have had dealings with _**Asha'bellanar**_."

"That is not a name to fling about carelessly."

"I am well aware of the danger she poses."

"Interactions with _**Asha'bellanar**_ are not without a price. I see your need must be great indeed for you to risk coming before the Dalish under false pretenses. _**Ma harel, da'len.**_ "

"I never claimed to be one of your own Keeper. Your guard made an assumption. One that I exploited to my advantage."

"Honesty. Interesting.What do you wish of me?"

"To start … that you get a message to her." Luna paused, trying to recall her prepared message exactly. "I would ask that you please tell her, _**Banal nadas**_. _**Lasa ma ghilana Mythal-enaste. Ma Halani.**_ I am known as Luna and reside in Kirkwall, if she is interested. Your former First knows where to find me."

The Keeper looked startled at the use of so much Elvhen. "You claim you are not of the People, yet you know much you should not.”

“So I have been told. Repeatedly.” Luna couldn't help smirking.

“I assume she will know what this message means?” Luna shrugged, she wasn't sure this would really work.

“It will hopefully whet her curiosity.” Luna smiled, revealing a pointed fang, and said, "Hawke should be arriving shortly. I have outpaced him. I have one more favor to humbly ask _**Hahren**_ **.** "

"Was one favor of the Dalish not enough girl?" she asked. The Keeper was definitely annoyed.

Luna looked her in the eyes, "You may of course ask for a task in return Keeper. I am not asking you to do these things with no reward in return.”

The woman considered her words for a time. Luna began to fidget and the elven woman finally spoke. “What is your second request?”

“I require a small vial of the ink used to create _**Vallaslin**_.”

The Keeper caught her gaze in a stern glare, then said, “What would you do with such a gift? That ink is sacred to the Dalish.”

“I intend to use it as leverage. There is a Mage in the Gallows who seeks it, I need his assistance in a … delicate endeavour. There are questions that I need answered, this will hopefully secure his silence in the matter.”

The Keeper nodded then said, “There is a cave just outside of the camp that leads to the Deep Roads. Darkspawn have been attacking our sentries there. Seal it and I will do all that you have asked this day."

Luna stood, bowing to the Keeper, and dusted the dirt from her trousers. “Consider it done Keeper Marethari.” She turned to leave as the Dalish led Hawke and the others into the encampment. Merrill was particularly surprised to see her already speaking with the Keeper but Luna gave no explanation. She left to speak with the Dalish armor merchant while Hawke attended to getting the _**Arulin'Holm**_ for Merrill.

Perusing Master Ilen's wares she found a ring that caught her eye. It was glowing to her Magesight and the hum felt pleasant against her skin. It depicted three wolves, overlapping one another. She had smirked and immediately bought it. She couldn't remember what it was supposed to do, but she was pretty sure enchantments worked differently than game mechanics would suggest. He gave her a wary glance but sold it to her without question.

Slipping the ring onto the index finger of her right hand she felt the familiar rush of an enchantment flow through her. Noting no ill effect, she inquired as to the location of the Deep Roads entrance. This seemed to anger him but she held her tongue in check. Master Ilen felt that the Keeper should have left the clearing of the cave to the Dalish. He didn't have any trouble making his displeasure obvious. Hawke joined her as she quietly continued her shopping but managed to piss of the Merchant further. Master Ilen immediately closed up shop for the visiting Shems.

_Yeah well, you're being a hidebound twat Master Ilen._

If Luna were honest she was also slightly insulted that she'd been punished for something Hawke had done. Luna beckoned Hawke to follow her, and headed to the far edge of the camp. The others followed after Hawke without question. She turned to the Mage saying, “I may need you to do me … well the Dalish a favor.”

“I'm listening.”

“How do you feel about killing darkspawn?”

Hawke paled a bit, and Varric started swearing under his breath. Luna felt bad, Hawke had lost his sister in the Deep Roads, though apparently she'd been made a Warden. Thank the Gods for small favors, not everything in this realm had gone wrong. Merrill seemed comfortable with the idea, especially since it would help her clan. Fenris showed no reaction whatsoever. The elf's stoicism grated on her almost as much as when he was yelling at her.

_Well I'm not really being fair to him now am I._

Turning away from the thought she relayed what she knew of the darkspawn that had been harassing the Dalish. She led them up the familiar path, and soon came upon the cave entrance. It had always bothered her that there had been no quest to close off this cavern during Dragonage II.

There had been no way to venture into the deep roads from here either, and after killing a few darkspawn it was simply left as is. Open caves full of darkspawn just seemed like a bad idea for everyone involved. This was her chance to rectify that mistake. After a short debate she was able to convince them to accompany her on the quest. Her informing them that she would be going alone regardless seemed to do the trick. It was farther than she had expected but the hike wasn't unpleasant.

As they neared the cave the smell was overpowering and unlike anything she had ever encountered. She felt her ear twitch as she picked out several disturbing growls. Judging by the rising roar there was a swarm of them emerging from the depths. Luna prepared for combat immediately. There was barely time to draw her daggers when she was suddenly defending herself against her first darkspawn.

Unprepared for the ferocity of its attacks, it got around her guard, and she was knocked to the ground. Fenris' sword demolished the Hurloc and she thanked him gratefully. A second darkspawn charged the elf, and she slew it fairly easily, its dark blood stubbornly clinging to her blades. "Oh, gross," she said trying not to gag. Remembering her necklace she activated her stealth. She did not want to tank the oncoming horde.

Hawke and Varric joined them in unleashing carnage as more emerged from the cavern. The newest Hurlocs didn't notice her and she thanked Sandal for his gift all over again. She was able to get behind several and slit their throats without incident. One managed to get the drop on her after she attacked its counterpart and she jumped away as it became a pincushion. "I think I'm in love." she yelled to Varric. Merrill stood a safe distance back and threw a barrier over everyone … except Luna who promptly absorbed the magic.

"Sorry, Bianca is a one dwarf kind of woman." Varric continued to rain down death with his crossbow, but the amount of darkspawn emerging for the caves was becoming rather ridiculous. She couldn't remember there being this many in the games, and scolded herself as she dispatched another one. After the encounter with the giant spiders this didn't seem nearly the trial she'd feared it would be. Darkspawn were alive, just extremely disgusting, totally not like zombies.

_Keep telling yourself that._

Luna spotted an Emissary and paled when it pointed directly at her, snarling a command to its brethren. There shouldn't have been such a large concentration of darkspawn here. Why were there so many near the surface? This many would easily decimate the small Dalish camp. She screeched when one of them managed to grab her by the leg; it's bruising fingers pawing at her. Horrified she realized that they had identified her as female and were attempting to separate her from the others. It suddenly flung her towards the cave.

Hawke was throwing lightning and she flinched as she crossed the path of one of the bolts; the spell striking her in the back. She was relieved when she simply absorbed it. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to that. Lightning was scary, and the charred remains of one of the creatures beneath her attested to that fact.

“LUNA!” Fenris charged towards her, killing several Hurlocks as he carved a path through the swarm. “Stand and fight woman,” he snarled and threw himself at the Emissary.

Darkspawn grabbed at her again, and she stabbed the Hurlock in the throat. It dropped her and she rolled away from the the cave entrance. The Emissary began to laugh as it hurled its vile magics at them. Something was wrong, the magic felt like the Qunari's last strike in Kirkwall. Realizing the danger too late, Luna screamed in surprise when the bolt actually made painful contact with her flesh. She stared in disbelief at the green, oozing wound on her arm. Felling another Darkspawn she retreated, and realization struck her.

_I'm vulnerable to BLOODMAGIC?!_

Fenris beheaded the darkspawn Mage, scanning their surroundings for more of the enemy. That seemed to be the last of them, and Luna took the time to glance at her wounded arm. It wasn't pretty. Dark red and green veins seemed to radiate from the putrid flesh. She traced the healing Sigil and frowned when nothing happened. “Shit.”

“HAWKE, we must seal the exit!” Merrill cried and unleashed a **STONEFIST** at the support pillars.

As the rumbling of the falling stones subsided, the approaching sound of massive footsteps spoke of at least one surviving creature. The dust from the collapsing pillars cleared, and she swallowed at the familiar, and terrifying visage that was revealed. “OGRE!” she yelled, then dove out of the way of its sudden and unstoppable charge.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elvish)  
>  da'len : **child**  
>  Asha'bellanar : **Woman of many years. The Dalish name for Flemeth, the witch of the wilds. Morrigan's mother.**  
>  Ma harel, da'len : **You lie, child.**  
> 
> 
> Banal nadas. Lasa ma ghilana, Mythal-enaste. Ma Halani. :  
>  **Nothing is inevitable. Grant me guidance, Mythal's Blessing. Help me.**  
> 
> 
> Hahren : **Elder**  
>  Arulin'Holm : **Honeycut – a woodshaping tool from the days of Arlathan.**  
> 


	27. MADNESS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Gray only came in 'VERY DARK GRAY' as an option, so we will be experimenting with color for the next few days. I tried changing the Earth languages to a brighter purple ... totally didn't work. So next is JADE! If that doesn't work, we'll try orange, and so on and so forth. Let me know if this gives anyone else any problems reading it. Ironically I used English more in this chapter than the previous ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

_What the FUCK is an Ogre even DOING HERE?! The BLIGHT is supposed to be OVER._

Luna spat, trying to clear the dust coating her tongue. She had barely avoided becoming a trampled smear. A quick glance at the grotesque parody of the Qunari people proved they were as stupid as they'd been in the games. It was dazed, having slammed its own head into the unforgiving mountain. Small stones and debris rained onto its multi-horned head as it shook them off in confusion.

The gray skinned monstrosity swung its arm towards Merrill as she tried to slowly back away. The Dalish Mage managed to dart out of reach just as Luna regained her feet. Readying her bow Luna loosed an arrow, biting back a scream as her left arm protested, only to have it ricochet off its shoulder pauldron. She cursed and it turned back to the elven Mage, forcing Luna to launch another arrow. The projectile went wide as she lost her grip on her weapon, the pain lancing up to her shoulder. It embedded itself into the creature's thick hide, drawing its attention towards her with a blood curdling roar, that stole her breath.

_I'm sorry. Please don't eat me._

Fenris took the opportunity to strike at the beast, but the darkspawn simply caught the weapon by the blade. As it flung the elf away, a spray of the Ogre's blood arced through the air in its attacker's wake. This did not look good, the longer the fight lasted, the more likely they would have wounded … or dead. Luna hopped in front of the remains of a large pillar, holding her ground as she tried to keep the monster's attention. “Over here UGLY!” It roared again as it charged, the sound reverberating in her bones, bass undertones fueling her flight instinct.

Ignoring every bit of common sense, she stood her ground until the last moment, then **Accelerated** out of the way as the Ogre slammed its head into the collapsed cave entrance. The pillar was completely pulverized, and she was filled with a moment of exhilaration at this small victory. The elation was all too brief as it was replaced by fear flooding through her. “Use COLD magics! We have to slow it DOWN!” Luna took her own advice and charged, her right hand outstretched. She needed to touch it before it could regain its faculties. 

Hawke cursed loudly and suddenly large shards of ice grew into place around one of its legs. “It won't hold for long!”

Reaching the Ogre at blinding speed she slapped the Sigil on its other leg successfully, but was backhanded against a nearby boulder for her trouble. Shaking her head to clear it she realized she had taken another head injury. “ **Mother fucker!** " The creature was weakening. Fenris had managed to hit it now that she and the other Mages were slowing it.

“Andraste's flaming ASS how are you moving like that?” Varric yelled before peppering the crazed darkspawn's backside with several bolts.

“Trade secret,” she returned as she tried to stand only to fall on her ass. Suddenly it broke free of the spell encasing its legs and growled menacingly. Its gaze honed in on her again as it sniffed the air, and Luna grimaced. The darkspawn mindlessly charged straight for her, it's arm pulled back, clearly intending to smash her into tiny Luna chunks.

_Why the fuck is it still aggro'ed on ME?_

Someone was yelling a warning to her, but she was simply too dizzy to flee. Instead she cast **Draconic Might** and swung her good fist to meet the hulking brute's oncoming strike. There were no good choices, this would have to do. The force of their meeting flesh caused the Ogre's arm to snap, and Luna was slammed backwards against the stones with a violent crack. 

The world seemed to close in around her as a number of things occurred all at once. First she noticed that, rather than bellowing in pain, the Ogre had gone silent. Glancing in its direction Luna saw that when its arm had broken, the shattered bone had torn through its hide. Driven by the force of her spell, it had been shoved directly into the creature's chest. The Ogre seemed to fall in slow motion as blood erupted around the protruding shard. 

The impact of the creature's corpse on the ground beneath it was echoed from high above by the unmistakable sound of shattering stone. As Luna raised her eyes, she saw the face of the mountain break free, and hurtle downward. Her vision dimmed as she fell, and she prayed the others would survive. 

* * * * * *

Luna woke to find herself shackled in some sort of cage. It was dark, and took time for her eyes to adjust to the low red glow of a nearby brazier that served as the only light source. Her arm was crudely bandaged, and it appeared that someone had excised the ruined flesh she'd sustained from the Emissary's spell. To say having a hole the size of a fifty cent piece cut out of your arm HURT was a vast understatement. 

She noted several discarded vials scattered on the floor near the cage. The medicinal coating in her mouth indicating they had been used on her. She was afraid to peek beneath the filthy looking wrap that failed to hide the veins spidering from beneath them.

Luna thought she was alone until she heard the muttering coming from the darkened corner of her filthy cell. “Hello?” The mumbling ceased and Luna peered into the darkness nervously. The only sign she hadn't imagined it was the scraping of a chain against the cold stone floor. Her cellmate wasn't feeling up to chatting apparently. She filled the oppressive silence with her own whispering. “I didn't mean to startle you. You don't happen to ...”

A nearby door slammed open causing her to jump slightly. Her heart sank as she recognized the face of the steely voiced woman that approached. Two guards followed closely at her sides. “Ah, so you are awake. Good. This will be far more satisfying that way.” The Tevinter Mage's robes were slicked with fresh blood, and Luna narrowed her gaze.

_Hadriana_

"What have you done with my friends?,” she asked, her tone icy.

“Friends? Oh you mean that treacherous SLAVE and his band of mercenaries? I'm not sure. There was a rather large rock slide that engulfed a good portion of the path. They left you for dead.” Her voice was deceptively pleasant, and sent a shiver of disgust down Luna's spine. 

Luna actually growled, the animalistic, and unexpected sound low and rumbling. “FENRIS is NOT a SLAVE!” 

She suddenly cried out as a red haze surrounded her body, setting every nerve alight with agony. It continued on for several minutes, the pain intense enough that she couldn't breathe. All through the spell's effect Hadriana mocked her. “That elf will ALWAYS be a SLAVE. And YOU my pet, will fuel the spells I need to subdue him.”

“FUCK YOU, you social climbing WHORE!” The insult made Hadriana narrow her eyes as she swiped her hand through the air, as if grabbing an invisible object.

The strange red haze engulfed Luna again, freezing her in place; unable to resist as the guards removed her from her cell. She was surprised when they simply moved her to another much smaller cage. Hadriana laughed saying, “It's a pity you won't live long, but you appear strong, perhaps you will resist the Blight long enough to be entertaining.” Her laughing only grew more cruel as Luna's eyes darted to her bandaged arm.

_The BLIGHT, no she's lying, she must be … this is NOT how I imagined finally meeting this BITCH._

"Did you think the Tevinter Imperium would be unaware of your little band of travelers? I will be richly rewarded when I have found the means of breaking you."

"I can't wait for Fenris to kill you,” Luna snarled. The Bloodmage laughed, and retrieved a branding iron from the nearby brazier. Hadriana walked toward her deliberately, calculating, and slow. Though Luna had expected it the searing of the owner's mark into the flesh of her thigh pulled an involuntary hiss from her lips.

“You are a Slave my dear Luna, and you will beg for death, long before I grant it.”

_How does she know my NAME????_

Hadriana and her goons removed someone from her previous cell. The woman didn't resist. She simply lay limply in their arms as they dragged her across the dungeon floor. Her filthy blonde hair was a matted tangle that fell along her spine like a mane. Even from her cramped position Luna could see the crisscrossing scars through the woman's rags. They left through the same door they had entered, leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

It wasn't until she had been left there for several minutes that she realized her terrible predicament. The cage was too short to stand in, but too narrow to sit down, forcing her to hunch over. Her leg was firmly chained to floor, and there was no comfortable position to remain in. Within minutes her back and legs began to ache as her muscles strained to find relief. Nothing was within reach to aid her in breaking free. 

She attempted to free herself of the chain, but found that her mana pool was … inaccessible. Luna had used a great deal of power to defeat the Ogre. Still, she should have had some shred of mana left, there wasn't even the telltale ache that came with being empty. It was as though something were hiding the remaining power within her. She started when the desperate screaming of her fellow prisoner echoed throughout the dungeon.

 _She's blocking me. HOW is she BLOCKING ME???? How am I going to escape?_

_* * * * * *_

The first time Hadriana had ordered her whipped Luna had been sure she could hold out against anything the evil woman had in store for her. Then the first crack tore a line of her flesh away, and she could think of nothing but the next stroke. As she lay in her own filth, blood seeping from her shredded back, she had willfully continued to defy the Bloodmage. Hawke would find her, she was sure of it, and Fenris would execute Hadriana. This nightmare would end, she need only endure.

Hadriana had simply smiled, then upgraded from simple braided leather, to a sharpened box chain with a crude handle. The Bloodmage had used the new whip herself. Luna had cried out until nothing more could be forced past her swollen throat. Each time she had passed out from pain and exhaustion bloodmagic, fueled by her own torture, was used to pull her back into wakefulness. She couldn't count the number of potions and elixirs that had been forced on her. That had been over a week ago.

The third time she'd been whipped, Luna had kept her mouth shut, hoping to avoid the wrath of the deranged Tevinter Mage. It had made little difference. Her silence had only fueled the Bloodmage's desire to hear her beg. The whipping had lasted longer, and the other prisoner had been brought in to watch. Luna was growing desperate, nothing appeased the cruel Mage, no answer was good enough.

Her fellow prisoner had finally started talking to her after that particularly brutal day. Her name was Helena she discovered later that night as the girl was forced to tend Luna's many wounds. “She doesn't want us to die too soon. Too soon … not too soon. Mustn't die too soon,” she'd singsonged under her breath. Luna was certain that Helena was completely insane and she couldn't convince the woman that she wasn't an apparition.

“How long has she had you Helena?” Luna had croaked, insane chatter being preferable to the deafening quiet of their cell.

“Moon … moons … moon-moons ... Years? Bloody, tying, ripping, clawing, biting, gnashing, screaming … Like a song. Wind of a thousand screams. Mustn't anger the Mistress … so much worse.”

 _Years?? I'll die first, one way or another, I won't be staying here. Never thought I'd pray I really did have the Blight. But the mistress … NO … NEVER! HADRIANA wouldn't let her other blood-doll near me then … would she?_

Another week passed and she couldn't count the number of times she was removed for Hadriana's 'entertainment.' Luna was pretty sure she was going to die in these dark tunnels. The wound on her arm had healed, but the discolored veins had continued to spread, and were now up to her elbow. She felt sick all the time, but couldn't muster the energy to contemplate why. Any thought of escape brought only desolation. There WAS no escape.

“There is always Hope little moon,” a whisper told her, and she glanced up in surprise.

“HOPE?” Luna stared at the little girl wildly and reached for her through the bars. “Sweetie you need to get Out of here!”

“I'll find the keys.”

“NO! Leave me. Hadriana is a Bloodmage, she will BIND YOU!"

The girl nodded, on the verge of tears. “Very well, but only to help. They are searching for you, and now I've found you.” The little girl vanished without a sound, and Luna wondered if she had hallucinated her. Being confronted with the possibility of rescue, brought with it a feeling of despair, and she feared that she would succumb to the same madness that plagued Helena.

Luna couldn't help the tears that fell, but she could try to keep silent. Her shoulders shook with the effort, but she didn't make a sound. Nothing was worth drawing attention to themselves. Hours later she wiped at her tear stained face, coughing around the large bubble from her throat.

Helena began clucking and mumbling to herself again and Luna finally lost it. “ **I don't need this shit. Just shut the fuck up already!**

Helena abruptly stopped and skittered over, her eyes wild, the chains rattling loudly. “ **You … I mean ... the words aren't real … say it again!** " Luna stared at the woman, her jaw hanging loosely as she registered not only the English, but also the woman's accent. 

Helena began to wail and Luna shushed her trying not to draw attention from their captors. “Helena **, holy fuck, are you BRITISH!?** ”

“ **I conjured an American?** Too long, alone in the dark … you're not real, not real, not real, not real, not real. No such place, I made it up, Mistress says so.” Helena began slamming her own bloodied fists against her temples. Luna placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, trying to calm her.

“Helena, I'm really here. I'm from **Earth**. How … how did you arrive in Thedas?” Speaking in Common seemed to calm the crazed prisoner. Helena stared at her, unblinking, as though Luna could vanish at any moment, slowly processing the question.

“Naked. Drowning. Waking Sea. She ... no ... THEY sent us. Last hope. A line against the spreading dark. Exponential chaos.” Helena shook her head violently, rocking back and forth.

“Who sent us Helena? Why are we here?” Luna needed to know. Even if she died in this cell, if this lunatic was the only way for her to have answers, then she'd take them.

“War … war and … knowledge, thunder, and love … the … the mountain of fire. Flames that burn and build. Whispering, always whispering, watching, waiting, learning. Faster cannot, too slow, too stupid. Useless. Celebration and the call of the wild, howling for attention. Back against the wall.” Luna blinked at her in confusion. 

_That's what I get for asking the crazy lady for a straight answer._

“Helena, who sent us to Thedas?” Luna spoke slower, enunciating every word, effecting a pleasant tone, as though talking to a frightened child.

The woman charged her and pressed her against the bars, clawing wildly at her face, hissing and snapping at her. Luna finally got a good look at her in the dim light, and she noted that Helena had golden eyes. They were slit like those belonging to a large cat. The low rumbling of a feline growl drew Luna's gaze to fangs which were longer than hers. All of her teeth were sharp and what she had assumed were untrimmed nails were actually claws. She saw that some of the teeth had been ripped out by the root. Several claws had been removed completely, leaving half healed stumps above the first knuckle.

She was vastly stronger than Luna, even in this state, and held her tightly by the throat as she continued whispering nonsense. “I'm telling you, if only … you would listen!” Helena gripped her own chest tightly, blood soaking into the rags as her claws pierced her breast. “Bright, burning like a sun. They shrouded us … murdered one by one, one by one … Only …Death, comes for us all. Ehehhehe.”

Luna dug her OWN claws into Helena's hand, trying to loosen the hold about her neck, needing air. Vacant golden eyes darted about, unheeding and lost. “LISTEN! No wait … **I'm talking, you hear me. YOU MUST LISTEN**!” The woman let go of her throat, tilting her head as if listening for something and suddenly began slamming her head against the bars.

Luna grabbed Helena's head in her hands, stopping her before she could inflict more damage on herself. “Helena **I'm listening. I'm sorry I don't understand ... I'll try?** ”

The woman paused, pulling Luna to sit on the floor with her, and rested her head against Luna's chest. Helena chanted under her breath and Luna could barely make out the words. “Shhhh, sshhhh Mistress will hear, shhh … shhh like a lullaby.” Not knowing what else to do, Luna wrapped her arms around the crazed woman. Helena finally spoke again after clinging to her this way for quite some time, though Luna couldn't say exactly how long it had been. Helena suddenly spoke into the stillness making her flinch.

“ **He clouds us. There were NINE** ,” Helena said shaking like a leaf, then chuckling madly. “ **And we cocked it up**.” Her arms tightened around Luna's waist as she spoke, it seemed to soothe her, so she kept silent though it was painful. This was the most coherent she had ever heard Helena. “ **But Vollmond ... BASTARD … turned. The power sang for him**.” Helena sat up carefully, her words were growing more confidant, less disjointed. Luna couldn't help the hiss that escaped her as the woman accidentally brushed her wounds.

“Vollmond?” Luna finally braved asking.

“ **Full-Moon. German. I loved him once … absolutely barmy.** ” Her voice cracked, making her sound even more hysterical. Furrowing her brow Helena traced the scar on Luna's face with her fingers. Luna didn't know what to make of the soft look Helena was giving her. The bloodied fingertips caressed her face gently, and she sighed, leaning into the touch. She had endured so much pain, even this small act of kindness, sent her senses reeling.

“ **Why can't I remember anything**?” Luna asked in a harsh whisper. “ **I know 'The Shroud' were … hunting us. I can't remember why I'm here**.”

Helena looked at her, Golden eyes piercing her Indigo, and snarled. “ **BETRAYAL. Training wheels with no key. Vollmond ... if we die, they find another. Collection. Incomplete ... Running out the clock** ” Her eyes grew dark with hatred, the woman was mercurial and suddenly sighed in relief. “ **You're dying. I'm dying more. Won't … can't BOTH die. Not enough time. Hadriana … weakens. Weak, wake, weak, wake. The hawk and wolf are hunting. I've waited so long. Ink bleeding through the page.** ”

Luna raised an eyebrow and Helena laughed. The woman still sounded quite mad. Helena leaned her forehead against hers. “ **Not much left of me. Shredded and taped. But I can save YOU.** ” She forcefully grabbed Luna's hands and Helena's eyes widened as they emitted a soft pink glow. Suddenly Luna could sense her mana channels being blown wide open. “ **Freedom** ,” Helena whispered. Her strength seeming to fade, she leaned fully against Luna, barely conscious.

 _GODS … EVERYTHING hurts. Alrighty then you Crazy Ass Brit. Let's get us the fuck out of here._

Wasting no time Luna gently set Helena against the cage, cast **Draconic Might** , and broke their chains. It took a fair amount of effort, and Luna's back felt like it was filled with molten glass. Sweat shone on her skin from the exertion, but the other Earther seemed weaker, she would be no help. Pulling on every ounce of her anger Luna kicked the lock on their cell. The metal crunched, but it took several more hits before the cage door slammed to the floor. Helena stirred at the loud sound and smiled up at her. “Wasn't sure ... **BOOM** ,” she breathed.

Luna helped Helena to stand, slinging an arm over her shoulder, and began walking them to the door. She was surprised to find that it was unguarded. “ **I made enough noise to wake the dead. Where the fuck is that psycho bitch**?”

Helena smiled wanly saying, “ **Right at the first intersection. Then left. I'll guide us.** "

Snorting Luna asked, “ **Guide us outside? Or to Hadriana?** ”

The woman gave a wheezing laugh. “ **Yes.** ” Luna didn't have the strength to roll her eyes. Their progress was slow but steady. As they made their way through the winding hallways, they grew more and more familiar. The red lighting, combined with the intense heat, seemed to drain her. Helena's weight on her shoulder grew heavier. They needed to find a way to heal, or neither of them would last much longer. She nearly dropped her companion several times, but managed to make it to the next door.

Luna blinked in surprise at what awaited them beyond. Fenris had Hadriana on the ground, and the sadistic bitch was bargaining for her life. She found herself unable to move, watching the scene unfold with a strange sort of detachment. No one had noticed their timely entrance. Suddenly Helena unleashed a bestial roar and lunged forward.

As she charged towards the prone woman, her bipedal stride shifted to all fours. With one final bounding leap she launched herself, catlike, at the Bloodmage. Hadriana attempted to throw herself out of the path of the ferocious attack, but moved far too slowly. All gathered froze in shock, caught off guard by this sudden turn of events, as Helena sunk her claws into the woman's shoulders, yanked her from the floor, and threw her screaming against the far wall.

Launching herself in the Mage's wake, she pinned her by the shoulders, to where she had collided with the stones. Into the woman's face she snarled, “Now its MY turn!” With that, Helena, driven mad by years of torture, ripped into Hadriana's throat with her teeth. As she tore through the jugular, she sent fountains of blood arcing through the air. The shock that had overcome the party continued rendering them motionless while they watched in stunned horror as the former prisoner gnawed her way to freedom and revenge.

 


	28. GIFT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luna finally gets some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

“Something tells me that woman had a grudge.” Varric stated grimly as Helena continued to rip apart the remains of the Bloodmage. Several of her companions had their weapons drawn, hostile intent obviously directed at Helena.

“That's an understatement,” Luna groaned, trying to stall, as she trudged towards the distracted party. “Not sure that's how I would have killed her. She deserved far worse.”

It seemed that everyone she had befriended in Kirkwall was present. Alistair was the first to react to her sudden appearance, sheathing his weapon and charging forward to wrap his arms about her. “Luna, you're alive!” He loosened his grip when she grunted in pain, eyes watering from the impact with his armor.

“We thought you'd died in the landslide ...” Anders said staring at her in open shock.

“Let … go please.” Alistair complied immediately, and she hated the pity in his eyes as he took in her appearance. Luna had lost a great deal of weight, and knew she would bear literal scars from this ordeal for the rest of her life. She wanted nothing more than to lean into his strength, but instead she stepped between the party and the crazed Earther. Ignoring their whispers as she turned her back to them; the tattered remnants of her shirt displayed the worst of her injuries. She placed a hand on Helena's shoulder. “Helena. HELENA! **You have to STOP.** ”

The woman paused at the sound of her name, turned away from the corpse to face Luna, and spat something out. Blood coated her front, painting her mouth and throat, as well at the rags that barely clung to her. “Luna,” she gasped. Her shoulders sagging she reached for her with a blood soaked hand, dropping a small dagger to the floor with a clang. “The sky. **I want to see the sky.** "

“She speaks your tongue.” Hawke observed.

Luna nodded, too exhausted to explain. “Take us outside. We need air. Please.” She sounded pathetic even to her own ears.

Eyeing the blood covered woman warily, Alistair paused for but a moment, before sweeping Helena into his arms and marching towards the exit. Luna began to sway on her feet, and didn't resist when Fenris gathered her up, carrying her swiftly after the Warden. Fenris seemed angrier than usual, and she wondered if Hadriana had managed to tell him about his sister.

* * * * * *

They refused to allow the Mages near enough to attempt healing them, though they did drink several Elfroot draughts. Intellectually Luna knew she wasn't being fair. She knew that Hawke and Anders would never harm her. None of that mattered in the wake of all she had endured. They both avoided Merrill at all costs. The thought of being touched by any Mage made her feel sick. She was filled with guilt and shame at her own reaction.

Anders had protested loudly, but Fenris had taken one look at her and told the Abomination that they had made their wishes clear. She'd never thought being out in the open could make her so nervous. Luna found herself jumping at every small noise emitted by those in the makeshift camp. Helena had calmed, though she chose to remain silent unless Luna spoke to her. Still the companions watched them closely, never more than a few paces away.

She was so tired, all she wanted to do was sleep. Instead Luna leaned against a boulder beside the cat-woman, watching the sunset with unadulterated joy. She couldn't clearly remember any previous sunset, but knew this display would be burned into her memory forever. As the sun's rays began to disappear over the horizon the two Earthers turned in unison to gaze at each other. Luna noted that she appeared completely lucid now.

“*Tell me of your homeworld Usul,” Helena declared loudly. Hawke and the others perked up to listen to their conversation.

Luna couldn't help the snorting laughter this evoked in her despite her pain. “Seriously? You're quoting **DUNE?** ” Glancing down at the blood pooling between Helena's fingers she arched an eyebrow in concern.

Helena smirked. “* **It's just a flesh wound. I've had worse.”** Luna was torn between laughing at the reference, or crying at the sudden realization that Helena was clearly dying. She began to rise to her feet to fetch assistance but Helena laid a restraining hand on her arm. “No. Nothing can stop this. We both know there's nothing they can do.”

“I could try ...”

Helena interrupted her quickly, “I've lost too much of myself. You can't fix EVERYTHING Luna. There are rules, especially for our kind.”

Stricken Luna asked her, “So what? I'm just supposed to WATCH YOU DIE???”

“Not watch me. LET me.” Looking off to the west Helena continued as an uneasy silence filled the campsite. “Sit with me. Watch the sunset. Share my last moments. Allow me to share with you ... something precious.” The sky was awash with color, painted in hues of fiery red and orange. They sat in companionable silence for a time, but Luna could not ignore her growing despair.

“Please don't ask this of me,” she whispered urgently. “Let me save you,” Luna requested choking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I don't want to be alone.”

“We cannot affect one another **Fox**. Even if I wished it, you cannot undo what's been done to me.” Helena moved to kneel in front of her, their faces nearly touching.

Luna heaved a sigh of exasperation. “So … I'm a **fox** eh? What does that make you?” She could feel herself becoming angry with the woman.

Helena rolled her eyes and sat back on her heels, not even wincing as the wound on her abdomen tore open, pouring thickened blood over the ground. “LION … obviously. Thedas doesn't have **foxes.** Or are they called Fennecs here?” Her face lit up with a cheeky grin.

That brought Luna up short, as she realized there was a deeper meaning to Helena's words; a revelation of sorts. “What … what do you mean,” she asked sniffling. Still kneeling, Helena peered deeply into her eyes.

“I have a gift for you. The burden of my destiny.” She leaned in closer, her breath ghosting across her face, tinged with the tang of Hadriana's drying blood. “It must be freely given, and willingly accepted. Carry it with your own. Discard my screams, for the peace of eternity.” With this poetic statement Helena brought her lips to Luna's in a chaste kiss. Luna was startled and apprehensive, but those emotions quickly gave way to an all encompassing tenderness.

Helena's chaotic aura seemed to be singing for her, it wrapped around her in an embrace that could not be denied. Their auras wove together and settled into a pink, calming, hue that whispered reassurances of love. She was conscious of the others in the the camp yelling something, but it was only a vague awareness as she was lost to the moment.

Luna felt a wave of power enter her through the kiss, and welcomed the sensation as it settled deep within her. As its coursed through her body she felt it hesitate at the infection in her arm, but only for an instant. The power then washed onward, purging its corrupting influence from her flesh. The last of her energy given, Helena gently broke away, and went limp as she succumbed to death.

* * * * * *

_Not this again._

Luna found herself floating in an endless sea of darkness. She was startled when she saw what appeared to be a ghostly Helena, healthy and whole, floating beside her. The difference in her appearance was startling. Her mane of platinum blonde hair gathered in striking curls which were laced with strands of silver. She was tall, svelte, and could easily have been famous on Earth simply for being beautiful. Helena had wide hips, and a narrow waist, in a word she was statuesque … and was watching Luna in amusement as she cataloged all of this.

_**Well I'm glad to hear I'm so unbelievably gorgeous.** _

_ Shit … you heard all that?! _

_**Relax. It's the nature of where we are. Nothing to be ashamed of, you're quite the looker yourself.** _

_ In that case … where the fuck are we? _

Helena's mood shifted, becoming serious. _**Welcome Luna … to the Void.** _

Luna felt a flash of fear tear through her. _The VOID??!! Isn't that Thedas' equivalent to HELL?_

_**Not exactly.** _

_Okay enough with the cryptic bullshit Helena. I had enough of that from you while we were still alive._

_**Oh, YOU'RE still very much alive. Chin up, your answers are forthcoming. This is where we pierced the Veil. It should only be a few more moments before …** _

Whatever she was going to say was lost as a golden radiance permeated everything. When her senses cleared she beheld four beings floating before them. Though humanoid they stood nearly twice her height. They appeared to be featureless and their general shape was amorphous. They were simultaneously both blinding and utterly dark; their 'skin' shifting like the surface of a turbulent ocean. Three stood together nearer to her, and one stood alone, drifting toward Helena.

She had the distinct feeling that the gathered entities were all watching her expectantly. It was as if they were waiting for her to speak, so she obliged. _Look, I've kind of been put through an emotional rollercoaster lately. And if you know anything about me, then you know I'm definitely not in the mood for games. SO,_ Luna said, crossing her arms in defiance. _Why don't you tell me what you are, and what you want from me, and we'll go from there._

After a moment that seemed to stretch for an uncomfortably long period of time, one of the beings nearest her drifted forward while simultaneously coalescing into a more distinct shape. Now addressing her was a very dark skinned human male, clad only in a short skirt and footwraps, leaving the rest of his well muscled body exposed. It was not his state of undress however that commanded one's attention. It was that fact that he bore the head of an ibis.

Looking into Luna's eyes with the fathomless depths of his own he spoke, in a voice that seemed to emanate from all around her. **WE ARE NOT HERE FOR GAMES CHILD. IN FACT, WE DID NOT BRING YOU HERE. YOU BROUGHT US.**

 _Excuse me???_ She blurted out. _The hell you say???_

 **TRULY** , he said unperturbed. **WE ARE GATHERED BECAUSE YOU FACE A MOMENT OF TRANSITION. ONE OF THE CHOSEN HAS ELECTED TO BESTOW UPON YOU HER GIFTS. THIS GREAT BOON CARRIES WITH IT IMPLICATIONS OF DEITICAL PROPORTIONS. AS SUCH, WE ARE HERE TO WITNESS, AND IF NEEDED, TO PROVIDE ANSWERS TO SOME OF YOUR MANY QUESTIONS. YOU ARE ALLOWED THREE QUESTIONS AT THIS JUNCTURE.** At that he stopped speaking, apparently waiting for her to respond.

Luna did what was likely a fair imitation of a landed fish. _Deitical? And is that what you claim to be? A deity?_

**YOU ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION, AND YOU BELITTLE YOURSELF BY GIVING IT VOICE. I SHALL NOT COUNT IT AS ONE OF YOUR PERMITTED NUMBER, JUST AS I SHALL NOT HUMOR IT WITH AN ANSWER.**

Luna didn't know how to respond to that and wisely chose to say nothing. Instead she looked at Helena, asking with her eyes for the woman to intervene. Helena simply gave her a shrug and a smile, indicating that she was on her own. _Traitor._ She decided to plow on ahead, and the consequences be damned.

 _FINE. WHERE IS MY SON?_

They looked at each other questioningly, and Thoth answered hesitantly. **WE ARE UNCERTAIN.**

Luna couldn't help the anger that colored her outburst. _UNCERTAIN!_

**HE DEPARTED YOUR REALM ALONGSIDE YOU, AND WE HAD UNDERSTOOD THAT HE ARRIVED HERE. HOWEVER TIME AND SPACE HAVE NO MEANING ON THE ASTRAL PLANE. AS YOU PASSED THROUGH IT, HE MAY HAVE ARRIVED IN A DIFFERENT LOCATION THAN YOURSELF … POSSIBLY EVEN IN A DIFFERENT YEAR. THIS IS AN UNFORSEEN TURN OF EVENTS.**

Luna's heart sank. Her little boy had also arrived in the hellscape that was Thedas, and the supposed deities could not even tell her WHERE he had arrived, let alone WHEN. Angry and flustered she threw out her next question with little thought. _Okay … my second question. Why was I naked when I arrived? I mean if you really are Gods, I'm sure money is no object. Is it too much to ask for a bathrobe or maybe even a sheet before you dump me in the woods? Look, I know I should probably be more respectful. I should probably be kneeling and averting my gaze, but quite frankly I have been through a living HELL, and I'm fairly certain it was a YOUR behest. So I think I've earned the right to … exhibit a modicum of disrespect._ Luna stood proudly, chin lifted in defiance, as she waited to be struck down.

Seemingly standing on wisp of cloud, another of the entities drifted forward. His visage solidified into that of a monkey faced human, bearing a golden staff, and he laughed in good humor. **AS A DAUGHTER OF SUN-WUKONG, I WOULD EXPECT NO LESS OF YOU.** Turning his gaze towards Thoth, he said, **AND IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, THEN BRING IT ON BIRD MAN.** His face split with a mischievous grin.

 _Sun-wukong,_ she stated incredulously.

The being moved his gaze towards her with a smirk as his appearance shifted … to that of Tom Hiddleston in full Loki regalia. **WOULD YOU PREFER THIS GUISE DAUGHTER? YOU KNOW FULL WELL THAT MORTAL LABELS ARE MEANINGLESS. WE ARE, AS WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN. UNIVERSAL LAWS. AND AS WE HAVE ALREADY EXPLAINED, WE DID NOT BRING YOU HERE.**

 **ENOUGH OF YOUR TRICKS BROTHER!** The feminine being behind Helena snapped impatiently. **YOU'LL CONFUSE THE SITUATION MORE THAN YOU ALREADY HAVE.**

The third entity beside Luna finally manifested, revealing a great crown of horns, between the points of which minute bolts of lightning crackled. His lower half was that of a great bull, reminiscent of depictions of the Minotaur. In a voice carrying the resonance of distant thunder he boomed, **YOUR LACK OF DRESS UPON ARRIVAL, WAS MERELY A REFLECTION OF YOUR LACK OF EXPECTATION. AS YOUR SELF IMAGE WAS ENTERING THE WORLD UNENCUMBERED, SO TOO WAS THE FORM THAT WAS CREATED FOR YOU TO INHABIT.**

_So… I WANTED to be NAKED._

**NO, BUT YOU FELT AS THOUGH YOU WERE. AND SO YOU WERE IN REALITY.**

She tried to ignore Loki as he lounged on his cloud shirtless, drifting around them, gently strumming a small harp while humming to himself. A smile tugged at his lips, and it was clear he enjoyed trying to distract her. She continued to direct her questions to the storm God, she appreciated his directness. _Okay, third question, since you seem to be the most helpful. Why can I not reach the Fade?_

**BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW HOW. YOU CAME TO THIS WORLD BECAUSE YOU LONGED TO LIVE FREE OF THE ONE GOD. SO YOU BROUGHT YOURSELF TO A WORLD THAT YOU KNEW, THE ONE GOD HAD ABANDONED. AND THOUGH YOU PASSED THROUGH THE FADE TO ARRIVE IN THEDAS. IT WAS AS IF A DOOR WAS LOCKED BEHIND YOU, AND YOU HAVE YET TO DISCOVER THE KEY. A DOOR MAY SWING BOTH WAYS, BUT THAT DOES NOT GUARANTEE FREE PASSAGE.**

_I brought MYSELF HERE._

**YES**

_That's it? Just YES? No innuendo? No riddle, just YES?_

**YES**

Luna palmed her face in aggravation. _Just to be clear and to avoid further confusion. What do I call you?_

**I WAS MOST COMMONLY KNOWN AS ZEUS, THOR, INDRA, RAIJIN, SET …** Luna held up a hand to forestall any more of what was sure to be an endless list. He smiled at her indulgently, nodded and simply said, **I WOULD PREFER TESHUB, AS THAT IS THE ASPECT I HAVE TAKEN.**

At his mention of appearance Luna absentmindedly glanced down at herself, and caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her vision. Following it with her gaze she realized that she appeared to have a new addition to her astral body. She had not one but three of the long, silver, tails of a fox.

_OH. That's what Helena meant._

The entity beside Helena huffed as she drifted toward Luna. She appeared as a young woman that embodied elegance and grace. The beautiful woman wore a gossamer gown that seemed to accentuate her female form. Approaching Luna she examined her closely, staring at her long past what would have been considered normal curiosity. She nodded, approving of whatever it was she'd found.

**I FIND HER … ACCEPTABLE. TO SOME I AM CALLED VENUS. TO OTHERS I AM ISHTAR, APHRODITE, OR ASTARTE. MY NAMES ARE MANY. BUT INANNA WILL SUFFICE.**

Helena smiled then turned to the assembled beings, preparing to speak. In the air before the ibis headed entity materialized a scroll, suspended in the Void. As it unrolled, the being raised his hand, and a golden feather quill appeared in his grasp. Placing the quill's tip to the scroll he began to write, liquid fire flowing from its tip, leaving smoldering words upon the page. He indicated that Helena should begin speaking.

_**By ancient law, I Helena – Chosen Daughter of Inanna, bestow upon this woman, the sum totality of the powers vested in me.** _

Inanna, still standing beside Luna, placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, **ARE YOU PREPARED TO OPEN YOUR HEART? DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MANTLE AND MY LOVE?**

Luna looked at Helena who smiled encouragingly, and made up her mind. She wasn't sure how she knew what to respond with, but it seemed to flow from her naturally. _I Luna - Chosen Daughter of Thoth, Sun-wukong, and Teshub accept your gift in the spirit in which it is given. For now and all time._

Nodding, Helena said to Luna, _**So it has been spoken.**_ To Thoth she said, _**So it has been written.**_ Then finally to Inanna she said, _**So it has been done.**_

Until this moment the energy that Helena had passed to Luna had been a warm presence within her. Now, with the ritual complete, it gathered at her center and became a part of her. She gasped as she felt another silvery tail come into being, bringing the number of tails she possessed to four.

With the binding complete, the entities began to fade from view. Innana pressed a kiss to her forehead before vanishing, leaving behind only the scent of roses. Sun-wukong, having retaken the shape of Monkey, tweaked her nose before dancing out of view. Thoth remained, faithfully writing in his scroll as Helena threw her arms around Luna in a hug.

 _ **Do not grieve for me Heart-Sister. We will meet again.**_ Luna watched as a portal opened behind the Earther and was surprised when she saw an elven figure hold her hand out for Helena. She stood watching in stunned silence as Helena grasped the offered limb and stepped through. Tali beamed at Luna, throwing her a wink, before the portal abruptly closed, leaving Luna alone with the God of Knowledge.

With a dismissive gesture Thoth caused his quill to vanish into the Void. The scroll, its words still flaring brightly, rolled in upon itself, and likewise vanished. **I REGRET THAT YOU HAVE RUN OUT OF TIME LITTLE FOX.**

 _I figured as much. I still have so many questions,_ she sighed wistfully.

He turned to leave, seemed to think better of it, and faced her once more. **YOU ARE OWED ONE MORE QUESTION.**

_But … no I definitely asked three questions already._

**TRUE. HOWEVER WE FAILED TO ANSWER YOUR FIRST.**

Luna paused, considering the implications of having another question, now that she wasn't under such heavy scrutiny. _I don't know whether to ask you where my healing magic comes from, what my purpose is here, what the deal is with Vollmond, how many Earthers are currently in Thedas, why three stood with me while only one stood with Helena, whether I can cure Tranquility, HOW I supposedly brought myself to this plane, what exactly it means to be your Chosen, or if I'm doing the right thing by trying to change Alistair's future._

**THEN YOU MUST ASK YOURSELF THESE QUESTIONS. DO YOU WISH TO KNOW AN ANSWER FOR YOURSELF, OR FOR OTHERS? FOR YOUR OWN ENRICHMENT, OR FOR THE GREATER GOOD? TO EXPAND YOUR POWER, OR EXPAND YOUR KNOWLEDGE? WHAT IS IT THAT YOU TREASURE?**

_Allow me a moment to consider._ The ibis head bobbed in acknowledgment and she began to pace. _Okay. I would choose to help others over myself, and I would choose the greater good over self enrichment. That leaves me with only two questions to choose from. Do I wish to know the nature of my enemy, or the knowledge of how my powers can affect the Tranquil. What good would it do to defeat this great evil, if it leaves so many living in a cursed state? That being the case … I have my question._ When he nodded for her to continue she looked in his eyes and asked. _How and to what extent can I affect Tranquility?_

**THOSE WHO ARE PASSIVELY WITHIN EARSHOT OF YOUR SONG, WILL BE CURED OF TRANQUILITY, FOR SO LONG AS THE SONG PERSISTS. WHEN THE SONG ENDS, THEIR TRANQUILITY WILL RETURN. HOWEVER. IF YOU DIRECT YOUR WILL UPON THE AFFLICTED, SINGING FROM THE CORE OF YOUR BEING, AND GIVE A PIECE OF YOUR LIGHT TO THE WORDS, YOU CAN CURE THEM OF TRANQUILITY, FOREVER. BUT UNDERSTAND THIS. EACH TIME YOU DO SO, YOU ARE DIMINISHED, AND WHAT IS GIVEN, CAN BE NEITHER TAKEN BACK NOR RETURNED.**

She felt herself being tugged, her form gently moving back away from the God, seeking her physical body. Before she could wake she shouted one last question. _Have I just agreed to metaphorically play a railed game?!_

* **FREEDOM IS THE RIGHT OF ALL SENTIENT BEINGS. *THEY'RE MORE LIKE GUIDELINES ANYWAY ...**

Luna awoke.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"Tell me of your homeworld Usul" : **A line from the 1980s film DUNE.**  
> 
> 
> **"It's just a flesh wound. I've had worse." : **Lines said by the Black Knight in 'Monty Python's The Holy Grail.'**  
> 
> 
> *** "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings." : **A line said by Optimus Prime from Transformers.**  
> 
> 
> ****"They're more like guidelines anyway." : **A reference to pirates of the Caribbean.**  
> 


	29. TRAUMA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

The first thing that came into focus for her were rose petals of varying shades. She found herself slumped forward, but still seated, with her arms and lap full of them. Every minuscule movement she made caused them to fall away from her. Helena's body was nowhere to be seen. Luna found her tattered rags had vanished, leaving her dressed in some sort of diaphanous body wrap that draped about her legs and soft doe skin breeches. Another gift from her new Patron Deity no doubt. Inanna seemed to have used this opportunity to subtly remind her of what she had agreed to.

_Whatever that is. Why do I make such shit decisions when I'm under pressure?_

She sat up slowly, rolling her stiff shoulders to help work out some of her cramping muscles. Her back protested as half healed wounds reopened and slowly began to stain her top. Anders was in her personal space, and she involuntarily fell backwards when she noticed, trying to put as much distance between herself and the healer as her racing heart permitted. From her new position laying sprawled on her side she had a good view of the night sky, and tried to focus on the abundant stars instead of the sinking feeling in her gut.

Luna was afraid of him. No, she was afraid of magic. Ironic considering she was undoubtedly a product of magic herself. She could feel his mana, his aura reaching out to touch the world as all Mages did, and couldn't help the flood of disgust as it brushed against her skin. Hurt flashed across his face at her reaction and she clenched her jaw.

“I could never hurt you Luna,” he whispered, eyes downcast, her inner turmoil only increasing as his voice cracked. “I only want to see to your wounds.”

She finally noticed that the others were gathered as well. Of course they would be. They had helped rescue her from the worst weeks of her life, and this was how she repaid them. A traitorous tear tracked its way down her cheek and she hastily tried to reassure her friend. “I know … Gods Anders, I KNOW. Just … I'm sorry, I can't. You have no idea what she … what she ...” She gritted her teeth against the pain as she sat up.

Luna stood, fighting the all too fresh memories of Hadriana's sadistic enjoyment of her torture. Her mind was filled with images of the glee that lit the Bloodmage's eyes when she finally gave in and screamed. The detachment she had enjoyed in the Void had evaporated. On this plane her emotions were raw, sharper, almost cutting. Too REAL.

Aveline placed a warning hand on Anders' shoulder as he attempted to approach her again. The guardswoman shook her head, her grip tightening when Anders tried to resist. Her gaze was full of pity, and Luna quashed the urge to yell at them all. She didn't want their pity. Luna had always been independent; pushing aside anything she considered a weakness. She refused to be viewed like some broken doll. Hawke pulled the Healer aside, casting her a dejected glance, before discussing something out of earshot.

Or rather ... what they THOUGHT was out of earshot. In truth she could hear every muttered word; every whispered concession. They were worried about her sanity, and cautious about pushing her. Concerned that she might emotionally shatter at any moment with no way for them to help her. Afraid of what she might be. Afraid that she was lying. More afraid she had been telling the truth. 

Finally she'd had enough and said, “I can bloody well hear you Hawke.” The two Mages, who were a good distance away glanced at her in surprise. “I have exceptional range. There's no need to whisper, you would need to go much farther away for me not to hear you. Or throw up one of those silencing wards you're so fond of.” Luna looked out over the horizon, and realized she could see much farther in the dark than was normal. She was sure Helena must have left her with a physical change as well as a spiritual one.

_Helena dies in my arms, and her body is replaced with rose petals. I'm not even fucking surprised anymore. When did weird become my new normal?_

Absently patting her new garment down, she was relieved to find she wasn't actually sporting a tail or tails. Tonguing her teeth proved that nothing there had changed. That would have been extremely awkward to explain. Merrill took up position beside Aveline, her expression full of sympathy, and understanding. She took a step towards her, and Luna winced as she automatically backed away. Fenris put himself between them, and she'd never been so grateful in her life. Merrill frowned, but nodded her understanding, and joined the other Mages.

“Tricky, why don't you come sit down, get some food in you,” Varric asked smoothly. She considered his offer, then took it, like a drowning woman grasping for a life preserver.

The dwarf led her over to the campfire where Alistair promptly began fussing over her. Fenris flanked her wordlessly, helping her to keep a measured distance between her and the Mages. Varric brought her a stick with a piece of some poor animal that had been roasting over the fire, and she suddenly realized she was actually starving. She tore into the meat, juices dribbling over her chin, as she devoured it without thought to how she must have looked.

Fenris handed her a small hunk of travel bread which she used to mop up the stray fluid before throwing that into her mouth as well. He followed it with a wineskin, and she murmured gratefully when she realized it was actually filled with some sort of rum. It warmed her as it made its way down her throat, and helped to settle her nerves. He still seemed angry about something, but she was just glad it didn't seem to be directed at her for once. She fidgeted when she was done inhaling the food, it was clear she was the center of everyone's attention. Luna tried to ignore the fact that Alistair kept staring when he thought she wasn't looking.

Varric finally broke the silence when she took another large swig of fiery courage. “Care to enlighten us as to what the light show was all about?"

“Light show?"

Hawke chimed in saying, “There was a golden light that seemed to emanate from you and your friend. When it faded she had vanished, you were covered in rose petals, and your hair ...”

Luna reached up to her hair in surprise asking, “What about it?” She pulled a handful forward and found she had a large streak of silver, perhaps a handsbreadth wide, in her once raven black hair. She ran her fingers through it in disbelief as the metallic strands shone in the firelight.

“Or maybe you should just start with how you survived a mountain falling on top of you?” Varric said, coming to her rescue once again.

“I don't remember.” Varric gave her an look that clearly said he didn't believe her. “I woke up shackled in a cage. The last thing I recall, I'd ... unwisely punched an Ogre and broke half a dozen bones when I collided with a mountain.” She sighed resignedly, “The last time I answered your questions you thought I was lying or crazy. If you're going to ask the question, make sure you want the answer.” Her eyes flashed with hurt and anger, causing Varric's shoulders to slump.

“I'm not interrogating you Tricky. I'm just making sure my FRIEND is still in there.” Sighing he ran a hand through his hair saying, “I was there … you killed it with its own arm. It's not even an exaggeration and no one will ever believe me.” Luna took another drink, reveling in the numbing sensation as it spread through her, before passing it back to Fenris.

Fenris took the wineskin and had a drink himself, then offered it to Alistair who didn't drink, instead handing it to Hawke, and so on. Hawke and the others sat on the opposite side of the fire, and she tried her best to ignore the nearly overwhelming desire to flee. “She … Hadriana told me … you had all abandoned me,” she whispered, not daring to look at any of them.

Hawke made a noise of protest, but Fenris beat him to speaking. “She was lying. We searched the mountain for days. Her forces must have retrieved you first. We had several … less than peaceful encounters.” He looked at her then, but she couldn't discern the meaning behind the strange expression on his face. The anger that he commonly displayed had become something subtle. “I believe you,” he rumbled quietly.

She huffed, not sure whether the sound she emitted was laughter, or a choked sob. “About? You'll have to be more specific.”

“All of it. Your predictions … they have not all come to pass, but I understand those that now have.” Fenris met her eyes and she was struck by how earnest he seemed. Had those eyes always been such a verdant shade of green?

_Yeah well I haven't explained the rest of the crazy shit I just learned._

Luna swallowed and looked away. “Did she … did Hadriana finish her bargain with you ? Before Helena …”

“Tore her to pieces? Yes, she mentioned my supposed sister. No doubt its another baited trap to retrieve their precious slave.” His anger returned full force, and he threw a branch into the fire, sending ash and sparks flying into the night sky.

Luna looked at him expectantly before saying, “You're not a slave.” She avoided his gaze, choosing instead to stare at her feet, when he shot her a startled look. “She hated that. So I said it over and over again. Fenris is not a slave, Fenris is NOT a SLAVE. Maybe it was stupid of me, maybe if I'd just played for time ...“

Fenris shook his head, though he wouldn't meet her eyes, staring into the flames. “Let the blame lie with her corpse. Nothing could have appeased her.” Luna shuddered, shrinking in on herself as the memory of the woman's laughter rose up unbidden. She glanced up at Fenris in surprise when she felt his hand settle over hers. His voice dropped low as he whispered for her ears only. “The memory will never leave you. I cannot promise it will ever be less painful. But in time … you will be able to control it.”

“How can you know that. What if I'm not strong enough,” she returned, her voice rasping. Luna could feel her lip trembling, and bit down hard, to stop its quaking. She grasped Fenris' hand in a vice like grip, her eyes shut tightly, and was sure he'd ask her to let go. He didn't.

An hour passed by in a blur as everyone ate, and set up their tents. The others did not press her too hard for answers, though she knew there would be an inevitable confrontation with Hawke. The man was like a Mabari with a bone when it came to information he knew was being kept from him. Anders had taken a stroll after throwing her a pained glance, and she didn't miss that Hawke had quickly followed after. Luna found that she was genuinely happy for them, Anders deserved at least some measure of joy, even if not with her.

She had almost forgotten that Fenris remained at her side as the others had retired, each finding their tents as the night wore on. He had long since snatched his hand away from her own, but had remained beside her. Luna didn't even care if it was only to guard her as the dangerous unknown. She flinched when she felt Fenris shifting to sit behind her, slowly peeling the blood crusted cloth from her back. “What are you ...”

“They must be cleaned,” he said quietly and she suddenly felt irrationally violated by his gentle, probing, touch. Fenris noticed her tensing muscles and stopped for moment.

“You don't need to do this. I can ...”

“Unless you've acquired the ability to see your own back, you need me to attend to this,” he growled, brooking no argument.

Luna could have protested, but she was too emotionally spent to bother. She nodded her consent, and spent the next half hour gritting her teeth as he painstakingly tended her wounds. He uttered no sound, and she was grateful not to hear a clue as to how horrible it might have looked. When he was done he spread a salve onto the injuries. They had no bandages so she simply lowered her shirt back into place.

“You're lucky to be alive. Bloodmages don't often keep their … victims for long."

“She kept Helena for years.” Luna would have missed the signs of his reaction if she'd blinked.

“That is … I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner.” Fenris swallowed hard, then stood, facing away from her.

“Why are you being so … helpful? Did you lose a bet? You're not exactly, caring ... I mean ...” Luna looked everywhere but directly at Fenris, her face burning brightly with embarrassment and shame. “Sorry, that sounded. That's not what I meant.” He didn't respond to her fumbling, simply started to bank to fire. “Thank you.”

_Hello foot. You sure are tasty. My mouth missed you … so, so much._

“You are welcome.” Fenris paused then said gruffly, “My tent is the only one available. I will take first watch, feel free to use it.” After the curt offer he took up a position that gave him the best view of the surrounding terrain. Unable to think of any excuse not to take him up on his generous offer she climbed into the elf's bedroll. The scent of Lyrium and sword oil enveloped her, and despite her emotional turmoil, she was soon fast asleep.

* * * * * *

Her night was mercifully dreamless and by the time Luna cracked her eyes open the sun had well and truly risen. She was still in Fenris' bedroll. He had let her keep it for the entire night. Luna curled into the cloth breathing in the chill morning air and decided she didn't want to move. Thedosians tents did little more than keep rain from soaking you. She couldn't remember having slept this late since arriving in Thedas.

There wasn't enough noise for everyone to still be here. They weren't still sleeping and there was less magic present. She didn't know whether she should be thankful for the eerie silence. Someone was puttering about the campsite, tending to the fire. The gait and faint swishing of robes meant it could only be Anders. The smell of roasting vegetables and a strong tea had her stomach protesting.

_I know … you want breakfast. Just get up you coward. You'll have to face him eventually._

She coughed as she sat up clearing her lungs of 'morning gunk' as she'd come to call it. Stretching slightly she was pleasantly surprised to discover that her back didn't hurt nearly as bad as it should have. Straining to see behind her still pulled uncomfortably at the newly formed scars however. The salve had worked. Sighing she exited the tent and met Anders' eyes.

“Good morning,” he breathed before fumbling around to hand her a mug of whatever he had brewed. She took it, thanking him, forcing her hands to be steady as she sat near the fire. He brought her food, from the looks of it whatever wild edibles he'd found in the area. They were almost tasteless, but food was fuel, and she finished them with gusto.

He was running about like a madman, trying to anticipate what she might need in a frenzy of nervous energy. He brought her a blanket and a cushion which seemed odd considering they were camping light. Then she noted the piles of cargo stacked at the side of camp. The others must be clearing out the Holding Caves of loot already.

“You don't need to do this Anders.”

“I'm not doing anything.” He wasn't very convincing with the tremor in his voice.

Luna pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “THIS! Doing … things for me. I'm not an invalid.” Then quietly she added, “It isn't YOU I'm afraid of Anders.” He had large bags under his eyes, and she was certain by the red rimming them that he'd had little if any sleep. Steadying her breathing she did her best to sound calm. “I won't let that bitch change things between us. You're my FRIEND. You'll always be my friend. I just need a little time.”

Her words didn't have to effect she'd been expecting. Perhaps her tone of voice was truly unconvincing. Anders seemed more upset than before, his hands clenching as he retrieved his pack. “Of course we're … friends Luna. It's just ... I thought you had died.” He retrieved more elfroot salve and indicated her back. “May I … I don't want you to become feverish.” Luna's heart began to race as he approached, and she dropped her half finished tea to the ground as she backed away.

He lowered his hands and sighed. They didn't speak for a long moment. Instead they stared at the cup as the steaming liquid seeped into the ground. “I'm sorry Anders … I ...”

“No Luna. I'm pushing you. It's just. I should have looked harder.”” He set the salve on the ground and started to leave.

_He's blaming himself for what happened to me? That makes zero sense. Quick think of something nice to say!_

“Hey … umm … so you and Hawke seem … closer.” She didn't imagine it when Anders flinched. He looked at her as if she had discovered some horrifying secret.

“How did you ... Of course you know.” He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

_Shit does he think I'm homophobic???_

“I think it's sweet. You're good for each other.” She gave him a genuine smile and was disappointed when he didn't return it. “No really Anders, I hope he makes you happy.” Fenris entered the camp carrying a large Chest and a sack that he dropped to the ground with a careless thud. She was amazed at how silent he was despite his burdens. True, she had been a little distracted speaking to Anders, but it was still impressive.

Anders took the opportunity to leave the camp, likely to join the others, and Luna sighed. She was disgusted with herself. It felt like Hadriana had poisoned her soul, as if she was forever tainted, and her every thought were filtered through a lens of the Bloodmage's crafting. Fenris looked at her questioningly when he noticed the pot of salve. Retrieving it he indicated his tent and she nodded wearily. Who could have thought a simple conversation could be so draining?

Sitting on the bedroll she faced away from him and removed her top without a second thought. Belatedly she realized that Fenris wasn't a healer, but opted not to make things anymore awkward than they already were, and kept her back to him. He cleared his throat then began slathering the salve into her wounds.

“Thank you.”

“There's no need for thanks ...” He had found cloth in the caves and gently wrapped her in fresh bandaging. She smiled at him, and was confused when his expression hardened. “Perhaps NOW you'll realize how dangerous magic is..”

_Mother fucker._

“You bring this up NOW? After everything I've been through, you choose THIS moment to revisit THAT argument?”

“Yes. Now that magic has been used to TORTURE you, do you SEE how dangerous it is?”

“I've ALWAYS known how dangerous it is. And YES, it has been brought into clearer focus for me. But that DOESN'T mean that EVERYONE that uses it should be locked in a tower. Part of me may fear Hawke, and Anders, and Merrill, for what they can do. However, THEY did not torture me. THEY are not Hadriana. The MAGIC is not Hadriana.” Luna's voice dropped menacingly, as she emitted a low growl. She gestured at the small container of salve still in his hands. “I could bash your head in with that jar, but that doesn't make the JAR evil.”

“You've been marked by the magic as surely as I have, and will carry those scars for the rest of your days. Say what you will, but they will serve as a reminder, that you can never hide from. 'Those once beast bitten, shall ever shy away from the beast.'”

Luna threw on her shirt, fuming at the elf. By the time the cloth cleared her head, settling into place she saw that he had already vacated the tent. Angrily she mumbled, " **You just gotta have the last word don't you.** "

 


	30. FINALLY*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have to cut my posting to once a week until further notice. Apparently I have to be an adult or something. XD I'll be back to posting like a mad woman once I'm done with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'd like to thank everyone that has stuck with the story this far. This chapter I'm adding a little something different. I've posted the actual 'hopefully functioning' link for a song used purely as background music. The music isn't required for you to enjoy the text, but I feel it helps set the mood for the scene. I await your feedback! :)  
> 
> 
> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
>  Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
>  Credits and links also in end notes.

Merrill and Aveline left hastily the next morning, each with their own objectives. Aveline was due back with the Guard, but would contact Turrik so they could unload some of the more questionable goods. Merrill had gone to meet with the Dalish, who had recently moved their campsite. Due in large part to the fact that the old site was now unstable. She hoped to give them first pick of any necessities lost during the rushed evacuation and enlist their help in moving the rest. There had been simply too much cached away by Hadriana and her goons to move themselves.

It would seem the Slavers had used it as the main base of operations for some time. This was no temporary camp, it had enough supplies to last years. The rest of the party had agreed that most of the proceeds would go to Luna. Money wouldn't heal what had been done to her, but it would give her the time she needed away from any foreseeable violence. Even the common goods would fetch enough that Luna wouldn't have to work another job for another year.

They left telling Luna about her sudden windfall to Alistair. He felt it would be prudent to keep it to themselves until everything was arranged. Luna wasn't one to rest idly, and given her recent incarceration, Alistair warned them she might do something … rash. Anders and Hawke agreed with him. In the time they had grown to know Luna, she tended to act first, and think about the consequences later. That wasn't to say she didn't think things through, but she tended to live in the moment. That would likely mean she would push to move Alistair's plans forward too soon.

This meant an extra week spent on the Wounded Coast with the normally impatient woman. They moved their camp nearer to the edge of the forest. Luna didn't seem to mind, it gave her time to heal, and Anders thought the fresh air was helping in that respect. Kirkwall's environment didn't always aid his healing efforts. He worried about leaving the clinic empty for so long, but knew he couldn't leave Luna in good conscience.

It didn't go unnoticed that she and Fenris were fighting again. Anders didn't understand the elf's sudden reversal in behavior. He had thought the ex-slave was finally beginning to shed some of his moodiness. The good news was that she was growing more comfortable being around magic again. Whatever Fenris had said to her seemed to fuel her desire to be near the Mages as much as possible. It probably wasn't healthy behavior, but he couldn't complain about the result.

He was still awash with embarrassment that she had intuited what had passed between himself and Hawke. How had she been able to tell at a glance? She had been so encouraging of the relationship … how could he tell her that it had been born of grief? It wasn't fair to Hawke, and it surely wasn't fair to put his poor decision making on her shoulders. She had been through enough. He would do as she asked, and he would give her time.

Meanwhile they did everything in their power to keep the peace. Anders would take every opportunity to ensure she was healing properly. Hawke would pull Fenris aside whenever Varric happened to 'NEED' to speak to her about something. Luna was soon well enough to take watch again, and they had outfitted her in a set of padded /scalemail armor. That meant they were able to put them on opposite watches.

On the sixth evening they were all growing tired of them ignoring each other and Hawke sent them out of the camp. She and Fenris were SUPPOSED to be gathering more firewood. Instead they were arguing again; loud enough that though they couldn't make out the words their tone was clear. Anders sighed, poking the fire with a stick as Varric gave a chuckle. “I'd like to apologize Varric. I'm sure Fenris and I must have sounded just like this more than a few times.”

“Yes. Definitely MORE than a few times,” Hawke chortled.

“Shut it you,” Anders blurted out.

“Now you sound like Luna,” Hawke said still smiling at him. Anders turned away, face flushing, at the way the man's gaze raked over him. Hawke was ridiculously attractive and he wielded it like a weapon. He was so open with his obvious affection, Anders didn't know how to react to it. This was so different than the Circle.

“Never thought we'd find someone who could piss Fenris off faster than you.” Varric said ribbing him.

Alistair snorted at that adding, “Well at least we know she's feeling better.”

“Sounds like things are heating up, maybe someone should go cool them down? The meat is almost done roasting, and I'm sure they're hungry.”

Hawke smirked saying, “Who's bright idea was it to send them together?”

“That would be YOU; our illustrious leader,” Alistair said adding more wood to the fire.

“Oh yes, I was sure it would help them to … bond. Whatever was I thinking,” he deadpanned.

“You were thinking you were tired of them glaring daggers and avoiding each other,” Anders supplied. He brushed his hands on his robes as he stood to leave. “They sound a good way off still. But I'm sure I can find them,” he said with a wink, and strode into the forest. “Don't let that burn, she'll never let us hear the end of it.”

* * * * * *

Fenris had already given up the pretense of gathering anything useful and had opted to act as a guard. His sword was sheathed but he carried it at the ready. They both knew Hawke had sent them out here together in some misguided attempt at reconciliation. Instead it only seemed to be fueling the tension.

"The Circles don't work!" Luna said in exasperation, picking up another branch.

"So you would have us do what? Nothing?!"

"That's not what I'm saying. Why does everything with you have to be black and white? Why can't you see that there are exceptions?"

"Once you start making exceptions to rules you start down the path that led to the creation of the Imperium. Bloodmagic runs rampant in Tevinter, an open secret, with abuses you can't begin to imagine!"

Already angry, her expression turned icy, as she dropped her bundle to the ground, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh can't I? How naive of me, I thought bloodmagic made kittens and rainbows. You know, recent experiences not withstanding.”

“Hadriana is but a small example of the horrors the Magisters are capable of. Bloodmagic is a temptation that grows in danger with each use, it begins innocently enough at first for most, but they always want more. One more taste, more prestige, more POWER. Mages cannot be trusted to control themselves! Look at how many we have had to dispatch in Kirkwall alone!”

“Really?! Then what do you call HAWKE you hypocrite!”

“I watch Hawke as closely as the Abomination! As closely as I watch YOU!”

"And YOU are not a CIRCLE are you! But why should you care so long as they're convenient. I've seen what happens when those deemed to be different are hunted down and exterminated for simply being born!” Fenris paused at this declaration but she didn't notice, already too far into her rant. “We agree on practically EVERY other issue. Aarrrghgh! You're as stubborn as Anders!"

Fenris grew furious at her observation. "We are nothing alike!"

"You obstinate ... annoying ... ELF!" Luna yelled while poking him in the chest.

“Do that again and you will draw back a stump,” he growled. She was beyond reason now and deliberately moved to poke him again, only to have him catch her wrist. He had been so fast that Luna hadn't even seen him move. Stubbornly she brought up her other hand and tried again, only to have him intercept that one as well, forcing him to drop his sword.

**~Play '[ **Say You're Gonna Miss Me**](https://open.spotify.com/track/6MUMXlaOIAn8B5OHtn6Lvn) **' QUIETLY in the background … TRUST ME~** **

For a moment she considered casting **Draconic Might** to break free, but as soon as the thought crossed her mind he stepped closer, pushing her arms behind her back. In doing so however, this also brought her chest flush against his. She glared up at him in surprise. This position had her somewhat immobilized.

“I saw you die ...” he whispered, his voice ragged. Their faces were mere inches from one another, and her heart began to race from more than anger. As she glared at him, she found herself being drawn in by the intensity of his dark emerald gaze.

“WHAT do you think ...”

Shock and exhilaration coursed through her body as she felt his lips crash into her own. A moment later her wrists were free as he snaked his arms around her waist, drawing her tightly against himself. The embrace was abrupt, vigorous, but not painful. It were as though a dam between them broke. Every inch of her skin hummed with sensation, and she leaned into his touch. She found herself not only returning the kiss, but returning it with enthusiasm.

She was enveloped by his scent; a heady combination of sweat, pine-sap, and Lyrium. Her arms came up of their own volition, and she wove her fingers through his pale hair, burying herself in his kiss. He opened his mouth to her, and as their tongues battled one another, she gave vent to all of the horror and violence she had experienced since arriving in Thedas. Luna needed to feel alive, and Fenris was intent on proving it.

Never breaking the kiss Fenris pressed her against the nearest tree, his hands making short work of her lacings. It had been so long since anyone had held her with any kind of desire and she craved him. Her fingers fumbled, trying to free him from the confines of his trousers in a frenzy. He tugged at her breeches and she managed to pull one leg free as his hands continued to explore newly exposed skin. She didn't protest when he ripped away her smalls in frustration, snapping the thong that kept them in place.

The kiss only deepened, becoming a mess of teeth and tongue, making her forget to breathe. Helping him to find the proper leverage she wrapped her legs around him. She ground against his length, torn between simply taking her pleasure in this fashion, or finding a way to remove his damnable 'elfhood' from its impossibly complicated prison. Fenris took the decision from her, reaching a hand between them, deliberately slicking his fingers against her as he finally sprang free.

She guided him toward her aching entrance, and his hard length slammed home, their lips finally parting as they both gave a lascivious moan. There was no tenderness, no softly whispered confessions, only the steady rhythm of their joining. Their armor rattled together, the tree shaking with the force of their fierce coupling. She clung to him, encouraging every punishing drive of his hips by meeting them with her own.

Fenris groaned as she tightened around him, her sighs helping to fill the relative silence of the clearing. One of his hands grasped her braids tightly, the other keeping her steady, cradling her against him with every thrust. She might have imagined it, but she swore she heard him chanting her name, his mouth moving gently against her throat. His name left her own lips faintly as she felt the approaching wave of her building desire.

She chased her pleasure singlemindedly, oblivious to anything but the feel of him. As she grew louder, his lips came down hungrily on hers again, stifling her exclamations. Luna felt her limbs growing strained in this position, but still she urged him on, and found herself increasing their pace. He obliged her, holding her back securely against the tree as he neared his own end.

Suddenly, she locked her legs together, pulling him deeper as she came undone around him. She gasped as it shuddered through her, wiping all thought away as she was inundated with pure bliss. This only encouraged him to push harder and she was blindsided by a second orgasm directly after the first. Her claws dug into his armor, Luna was only vaguely aware as he tightened his grip on her hair, and he gave a sharp hiss.

It was at once too much, and yet not enough as she held herself firmly against him, trying to prolong the experience. Her vision went white as he prepared to follow directly after. Her walls fluttered around him again, and he lost control, spilling into her with a hoarse cry that mingled with hers as he pulsed while still firmly within her.

Luna's mind was still whirling with the implications when a pine cone struck her squarely on the head. Opening her eyes, Luna searched his face, stunned not only by the sudden absurdity of the protesting tree, but by what they had just done. Fenris' eyes were closed, his expression radiating contentment, as if all was right with the world. She had never seen him so relaxed, his expression softening his features, making him seem almost … vulnerable. Her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed aside her concerns … for now.

* * * * * *

Trying to catch his breath Fenris opened his eyes to find Luna already staring at him. Her slitted eyes were deep pools of purple, warring with hues of blue, that he felt he could drown in. They slid to the ground, exhausted, but satiated. He couldn't be sure when thoughts of her had begun to vex him day and night. Fenris only knew that having thought her dead had been intolerable, and he had lost himself in drink. He was ashamed that he had lashed out at her, deliberately goading her into fighting him. On impulse, Fenris caressed her face, unable to fathom that she'd accepted his advances after his erratic behavior.

She gave him a hesitant smile and he felt an unexpected desire to enfold her in his arms and hide her away from the rest of the world. He began to push a stray curl behind her ear and was startled by the flash of fear in her eyes. Pulling away Luna suddenly withdrew, stood on shaky legs, and began readjusting her armor. It was amusing to watch her hop on one leg as she pulled on her breeches.

Her behavior was troubling but he chose to say nothing as he followed suit. She was cursing in several different languages, none of which he recognized. Luna seemed shaken, but in good humor, and he furrowed his brow. She didn't appear to be the same woman he had bedded moments before, all her confidence having evaporated with his single small gesture. He watched her, breath still coming hard, as she bent to retrieve a pine cone of all things.

They jumped when they heard the snapping of a twig and an embarrassed cough. Fenris glanced nervously at his discarded weapon, and quickly recovered it. He brandished it in the direction of the voice, and Anders stepped out of the shadow of a nearby tree, face flushed red. He had obviously come upon them mid … argument. Only HE knew how much he had managed to witness. However it was clear to everyone present that Anders was more than aware of what they had been doing.

“Dinner's ready,” he finally ground out into the awkward silence. Anders wouldn't look them in the eyes, and Fenris found it curious. He'd never known the mage to be bashful, usually he was the exact opposite. Fenris watched with no small amount of satisfaction when Luna stumbled, her legs refusing to work properly. The trio returned to camp wordlessly, and no amount of prodding by Varric loosened any of their tongues. Hawke had looked between them all suspiciously, Anders' face still painted a vivid red, his jaw clenched tight.

Luna and Fenris stole glances at each other as they headed to their respective tents after the meal. They would need to talk, eventually, and Fenris had no idea what she would say. She made no move to join him, and he made no move to join her. He didn't regret what had passed between them, but he noted Anders' reaction with interest. It was unlike the Mage not to gossip … especially about sex. The Abomination was angry, and Fenris realized with a jealous pang that the Healer had feelings for Luna.

The question was … did Luna return those feelings? Fenris realized with trepidation, that the answer mattered to him.

* * * * * *

Everyone was surprised when Fenris and Luna stopped bickering. Alistair would have felt relieved, except there seemed to be an unspoken strain between them now. He thought maybe the fight had gone too far, but Anders wouldn't tell anyone what had happened. Instead the Mage was moodier than the elf, and he resolved to let Hawke handle his lover.

_Huh. I remember when even the word lover would have had me in a blushing mess._

Alistair watched Luna out of the corner of his eye as they approached the city. She was playing with a pine cone, passing it from one hand to the other and examining it as though it held all the answers in the world. He hung back, obviously wanting to speak to her, and she gingerly placed it in her pack. The others nodded to them and gave them a small amount of privacy.

“I doubt anyone else mentioned this to you, but you missed Anora's visit.”

“WHAT?”

“Yes, she was 'checking on the Fereldan refugees.' She spent an awfully strange amount of time scouting out the alienage. Merrill tells me she had the most smug expression she's ever seen on a _**Shemlen**_.”

“That sneaky fucking, _****Gul-leh Ga-tun … Sseulegi Meog-nun, Ha sue-eh Ddu Ein-nin, GAE-SAE-KKI****_!” Alistair blinked in surprise at the vehemence in her sudden foreign swearing. “Tell me you contacted the patrols.”

“In fact we doubled them. The Broker contacted … well … ME when word got around you were missing. We had enough time to prepare, and warn the local elves. So far we haven't had anyone go missing that I know of.” 

“Wait, Alistair, how long was I gone? It takes at least a week to hear anything back from Amaranthine. I thought I'd only been gone for a couple weeks.” 

He sighed, motioning for them to hang back farther from the rest of the party. “You've been gone for at least two months.” 

“Are you shitting me???” 

“Now who's not believing who? Think about it Luna, you said yourself you woke to find they'd been healing you. You were already going through so much, we thought we'd break it to you after you'd started to recover.” 

“I've been recovered for DAYS Alistair.” 

“So I'm a coward. At least I told you before we got to Kirkwall.” 

“Wait … that means I had the Blight for two whole months? But ...” 

_But it only spread while I was conscious. That doesn't make any sense …I mean if I had a resistance it shouldn't matter if I'm awake or not. Unless … unless the blight itself is sentient? Or feeds off something not present when I'm not aware? UGH, why are there always more questions than ANSWERS?!_

"You HAD the Blight?!” He suddenly grabbed her by the arms, wrenching her to a halt, a look of intense concentration on his face. He relaxed almost immediately and released her. “Sorry about that. Well you definitely don't have the Blight NOW. Did she use bloodmagic to cure you?” It was obvious the way his face warped in disgust that he was referring to Hadriana, but there was also a small hint of hope. Of course he would want to know about cures to the most evil disease in creation. 

She shook her head sadly, “No … if anyone cured me it was Helena. It had spread up to my elbow … She died to do it so, I don't know if that was bloodmagic or not.” Luna realized they were falling behind the rest of the group and so she quickened her pace. She gave him a sympathetic look saying, “I'll look into this Alistair. We both know the Wardens could use any information on a cure.” He nodded, not even surprised that she knew such a highly guarded Warden secret. 

“You will never cease to amaze me Luna.” He said it with such admiration, she did a double take. 

“I didn't DO anything Alistair. I got beaten up, had a mountain land on me, woke up in a cage, and got my ass handed to me on a daily basis for weeks. We only got out of our cage because you and Hawke distracted Hadriana enough for her spell's hold on us to weaken.” She grimaced at the memory. “I didn't even get to kill her. Maybe I'm deluding myself, but I feel it would have been much more satisfying if I'd been the one to end her miserable existence.” 

“Stop. You do realize that's not … Most people couldn't survive a third of that, let alone still be walking after everything you've endured.” Alistair looked away for a moment before continuing, his cheeks brushed with pink. “There is one more thing I need to tell you.” 

“Oh?” 

“You're rich." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elven)  
>  Shemlen/Shem : **Quickling / An elven slur for human**
> 
> (Korean)  
>  Gul-leh Ga-tun … Sseulegi Meog-nun, Ha sue-eh Ddu Ein-nin GAE-SAE-KKI! :  
>  **Slutty ... trash eating, bitch that floats atop sewage!!**.  
>  **(Literal) Rag _(implied used up/dirty)_ like trash eating, sewer floats on ... dog offspring!!**  
> 


	31. Rebolubum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Luna found herself ogling Fenris' backside more than once on the trip back to Kirkwall. No one had the right to look that good in leather pants. She forced herself not to stare at him, and he seemed to be avoiding looking at her just as determinedly. Fenris' Lyrium brands continually masked his aura from her and she felt handicapped. It didn't help that they were now actively avoiding each other, and she wasn't sure if she was relieved or insulted. She was conflicted and she knew that. Sleeping with Fenris had complicated matters in ways she was sure she had yet to consider.

_We didn't exactly cuddle afterwards … it was just SEX. I mean, it was … Really GOOD sex ... but nothing more.  
_

_Yeah you keep telling yourself that. You are so full of shit._

_I was feeling vulnerable, and lonely! Come on, we were practically about to murder each other. Sex was a MUCH better way to handle all that aggression._

_Yeah, and it had NOTHING to do with the fact you've been attracted to him since before you found out he was more than pixels._

_Shut up. Besides, he always leaves Hawke after they sleep together. It was better I nip this in the bud._

_In what fucked up universe does that EVER work?! He at least gave Hawke the courtesy of SPEAKING afterwards. You haven't said a word to him since it happened!_

_I LIVE IN FUCKING THEDAS! Which until recently I KNEW for a FACT was fictional. Stranger things have happened … I just found out I'm a nine-tailed fox … well, four tails so far, but who's counting. A_ **Kumiho** _,_ **Huli Jing** _,_ **Jiuweihu** _, a_ **Kitsune** _…_

_You're avoiding the point._

_… Shit._

Shaking her head in frustration Luna followed Alistair in a distracted haze. At some point most of the party had split up, and she THOUGHT he was taking her back to their little corner of the slums. She was surprised when he took her down a completely different street, and into the Alienage proper. What he showed her next had her gaping in astonishment. 

Alistair had done more than simply keep things afloat while she'd been M.I.A. He had flourished. She noted there were active patrols of armed elves, though you had to know they were there to notice them. They were mostly rogues, blending with the regular citizens so as not to draw attention to the fact the elves were arming themselves. What truly caught her attention was not only the fact he had shored up the elven defenses against Slavers, but that he'd continued several of her ongoing projects in improving their lives.

He hastily explained that once he and the others were sure she'd passed on, he had perused her remaining belongings. He reiterated that they had been certain she was dead, and otherwise would NEVER have taken liberties. He'd found her illustrations of everyone, including himself as king, beside repeating images of an elven woman. He gave her a strange look as he relayed this, but quickly changed the subject. Luna had a growing feeling of anxiety with every word, and braced herself for the worst.

_Oh, he's not letting that one go anytime soon._

Though he couldn't understand the text in her notebooks, he had also come across some of her more fleshed out ideas strewn in her bedroom. She had debated endlessly with herself about writing those blueprints in Common; worried they might fall into the wrong hands. Instead it seemed they had fallen directly into the right ones.

The Kirkwall Alienage now had an irrigation/aqueduct system in place for fresh water. Cisterns had been constructed across more than a few of the roofs, and he told her many of the elves were saving for heating and cooling runes to add to the new public baths that were still being built.

As spring had fully taken hold, he and Merrill had been able to convince many of the local gardeners to build larger multi-tiered urban farmland, utilizing previously ignored space between and atop the buildings. They were expecting to be able to quadruple their yield, because he'd also found her hand cranked barrel composting system, along with the details on hot vs cold composting.

Sewage treatment still wasn't a huge priority to the elves, but he had somehow convinced them that having it thrown into the street was keeping many of them ill. He had butted heads with more than a few local craftsmen that called it a waste of time, and wouldn't accept the money of a dirty Fereldan. So Alistair had enlisted Fereldan refugees to install an efficient runoff, helping those unfortunate enough to be living in Darktown as well as the Alienage.

Merrill had hired street urchins, and using Luna's instructions, had them gather large quantities of kelp from along the docks. While the highborn looked down their noses at this untapped resource the elves took to it with zeal. The edible variety, unloaded from fishing boats, was being dried all along the dockside of the Alienage, and the rest was burned in large pits at the edge of Darktown, or sold as fuel. The resulting ash was used to kill the smell from the new drainage system. It was also sold to lye makers, who then sold the lye to soap makers, who then profited in the larger markets.

Darktown was still horrid; years of disgusting use and poverty couldn't be addressed in a few months, but under the Alienage it was far cleaner. Still, the Carta had taken it upon themselves to threaten anyone trying to steal pieces of the projects for scrap. In fact Turrik had passed on word, as well as bribes, ensuring that all the gangs considered the public works off limits. Just because they were criminals, didn't mean they preferred the stink of sewage and the illnesses that followed. Examples had already been made, and the damaged portions of piping restored.

All in all, walking into the Alienage felt like walking into a completely different city than the one she'd first arrived in. It was actually cleaner than Lowtown, and she wondered what would happen when the humans got wind of what the elves were achieving here. The streets were still a winding labyrinth, and there were areas that had yet to be improved, but no one living there could convincingly argue against the benefits. She noted the improvements were all on the inward side, no building on the perimeter had been touched. Luna stared at the transformed Alienage square that surrounded the blooming **_Vhenadahl_** in wonder.

_I'm not even mad. This is fucking AMAZING!_

Luna glanced up at Alistair's at first hesitant, then triumphant, grin and couldn't help but return it. Looking deeply into his eyes she spoke with an intensity and respect she often lacked saying, “You will truly be … a GREAT king.”

He only rolled his eyes at this. “These improvements were not by my design Luna. I needed Varric's help to even understand some of your drawings.”

“Shit! You let VARRIC SEE THEM?!”

Alistair flinched saying, “Not all of them. I'm not a complete idiot. Just the ones I knew you were already going to try. I did try to listen to everything you said about not wanting to cause an ' **inbustable rebolubum** ,' too soon for Thedas to handle.”

She hugged him then, overcome with happiness, and something she couldn't quite pin down. How do you describe the feeling of knowing someone cared enough to continue your work after you were … gone? How did one thank that same person for actually succeeding where you had failed, time and again?

“ **Medieval Industrial Revolution** … you ridiculous man. It might not have been your ideas, but your initiative made this a reality.” Luna absently wiped away the tears of joy that had accumulated at the corners of her eyes.

“That's what I said.”

She rolled her eyes as he shoved her playfully towards Merrill's home. “How were they able to afford all this?” Luna noticed that they were getting a few wide eyed stares but she was used to unwanted attention. Neither of them were elves and they were in an Alienage after all. It was when they gave them respectful bows, tinged with a bit of awe that she thought it strange. Then she noted that there were several Dalish mixed in with the crowd and was more confused. She looked at Alistair, but he didn't seem to notice the odd behavior.

_What's going on here?_

“Honestly, I just followed your notes. You were very meticulous in your descriptions.”

“Yes but this should have cost a fortune. We didn't have nearly the funds for a project like this. Definitely not enough to accomplish it so quickly! Where did you get all the extra wood and stone?”

“Most of it is … what did you call it ... 'reclaimed' from other works and abandoned buildings. Varric was able to approach several Merchants with properties they wanted cleared. They not only paid us in coin, but we kept the usable material and had it hauled here. The fired clay coverings on the water lines were once roofing tiles."

“That … is fucking genius. How … where?”

Alistair smirked saying, “I paid attention.”

“What about all the metal, that couldn't have been cheap, especially if you were paying a fair wage.”

_Which he knows I would have insisted on._

“I purchased an abandoned Foundry near the docks. For some reason no one wanted anything to do with it and it was priced about as much as an empty lot.” His happy tone became uncertain as he told her this and she blanched.

_Oh fuck … really. Um … eww. Well, I guess it's all been repurposed for a good cause._

Alistair caught her expression and grimaced as well. “I didn't know about his mother … Merrill told me after I'd already contracted work for it through Varric. I knew he'd been acting strange but no one would just TELL me what I'd done to anger Hawke. How was I supposed to know she'd been murdered by a Bloodmage in the same damned building.” He sighed, holding his arms out to her placatingly, before dropping them in defeat. “You missed us beating each other senseless over that one. Fenris of all people pulled us apart. Told us we were doing your memory a disservice, and to act like grown men.”

“Fenris … he … spoke of me? When you all thought I was dead?”

Alistair gave her an odd look at her question and shifting mood but answered anyway. “Often … it hit us all pretty hard. Fenris … he started to drink a lot. Well, drink MORE. I kept an eye on him, like you had done for me. I think he likes us all to think he's made of … some sort of hard stone, but inside he's really made of … Cake? Jam? Feathers? Something equally soft that ... And I'm just going to stop talking now.”

Luna smirked saying, “You know … you're adorable.” She enjoyed teasing Alistair, he was so easily flustered. Fortunately for him Merrill opened her door at that moment and ushered them inside.

“Wow … is this even the same **apartment** ,” Luna asked whistling in appreciation.

“ **Ay-paht-mint?** Oh, I guess you mean all the flowers. Alistair helped me find them. He even showed me how to keep them alive. You should have seen what it looked like when I tried by myself. It looked so sad with the wilted and dying blooms. I was afraid they'd die while I spoke with the Keeper, but the children saw to them while I was away.”

Merrill served them a tea that reminded her of chamomile, but with a strange cinnamon like aftertaste. If she had to guess the sneaky elf had added Elfroot. They were all so worried that she would fall apart at any moment. She was surprised when Merrill spooned in a small amount honey. Honey was expensive. The elven woman laughed leaning back in her armchair, and Luna noted that the furniture looked much improved as well. Luna sighed in satisfaction as the warm brew slid across her tongue.

She set her cup on the table, twiddling with the edge and finally asked her burning questions. “Alright. So how does this translate to me being rich? A year's wages at once is nice, but that's finite. I mean … I love what you've done with the Alienage. But if you followed my plans then this should be owned by the elves themselves, not me.” They were both smiling and nodding and she felt even more confused.

“We set up a distillery along the wounded coast, west of Kirkwall. The paperwork is still in your name. It's far enough from the city that the water is pure, and the current runs clear of … 'the grossness of Kirkwall' you were concerned about,” Alistair said.

Merrill set her cup down, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. “The drying kelp is all gathered directly from the open sea, far from the city, by elven fisher-folk. For the same reasons.”

Luna frowned trying to do some math in her head. “Yes, but that would be an awful lot of salt, you couldn't have afforded to build one large enough in just a couple months to account for this much wealth. Even offsetting the cost of food with the influx of such a cheap source.”

“We didn't … its … well ...”

Merrill took over as Alistair stumbled trying to find the right words. “They built an enormous water driven wheel, the kind they use in mills? I'd never seen one before but Alistair says they had one where he grew up as a child. The wheels pull all sorts gears … and more wheels, some chains I think ... some pour water from the river into the **Aqueduct** not sure how it all goes together, but Varric had the workers follow your drawings … for the most part, they had to change some things as you never finished them. It pulls this very large rope along what looks like a a row of giant drums. It makes an awful loud rumbling noise.”

Alistair grew animated and took over. “We have grind mills that the raw salt goes through first. Then that gets poured into vats set on the drums. It shakes the salt, and ...”

Luna interrupted with a grin as the answer dawned on her, “And separates the salt into layers.”

Grinning Alistair continued, “We can then scoop up the refined salt by layer, and sell or use them accordingly. Alchemists are paying a fortune for the purest. Pure salt goes for a hundred times the price of the raw sea salt we originally made in our hovel. Though there is a great deal of debris and waste material we have to dispose of.”

“There's probably a use for that, but we'll come back to it. Where are you hiding the vast amount of wealth we're acquiring from the Chantry and Nobles?”

“Right under their noses. Some rooms in 'certain homes' have been shored up and reinforced … and turned into vaults. From the outside they still look like the poor dwelling of any other elf. But from within ... its a fortress. Some we funnel through Varric and the Dwarven Merchant's Guild.” Alistair took a shaky breath, watching her with a worried expression.

_Ah, money laundering. That's impressive. Ironically the money isn't even illegal._

Merrill chimed in happily saying,“ The rest we smuggle through Turrik to 'the Broker.' From there it funds resistance groups in Fereldan and mercenaries to guard the elven quarters. That way no one person or group has any idea of how much wealth has been truly amassed.”

Luna shook her head in bemusement. “When did you two become so devious?”

“We had an excellent example to follow,” Merrill intoned cheerily.

“I take it 'the Broker' is taking a cut of the funds sent his way?”

Alistair smiled fondly as Merrill poured them all more tea. He waved off her concerns confidently. “Of course he's lining his pockets. But we agreed as long as he keeps the graft to under three percent he could consider it his fee.”

Luna nodded trying to wrap her head around everything Alistair had accomplished in so short a time. However it made some sense considering what he'd done with the Warden in a single year during the Blight. Despite what Morrigan thought, Alistair was not stupid, he had simply been sheltered. He had a childlike demeanor that she had always found refreshing compared to her jaded view of the world. She was proud of him. Yet something still didn't quite add up. “I take it everyone assumes the ongoing Hawke adventures account for most of the changes so far.” 

“That had been the idea.” Alistair suddenly seemed nervous again.

“It won't last forever. Someone is going to notice the elves are no longer destitute. I know its hard to think about … but they may try to purge it again.” Luna sighed, she didn't want to dampen the mood, but it needed to be considered.

“So far no one cares that we're hiring a bunch of elves. Everyone assumes we pay them a dismal amount of coin, and hire them and the refugees to keep our costs down. Of course, the Slaver attacks have increased since the Fereldan Monarch's little 'charity visit.'”

“How did you keep this hidden during said visit?”

Merrill laughed at this saying, “Oh, we had several very grubby children distract them while we concealed everything. We also herded her away from the main square. It wasn't difficult, she didn't want to be here.”

Luna took a steadying breath. Things were moving far faster than she had originally anticipated. Of course being 'dead' had sent her plans careening down avenues she hadn't considered. Maybe they could slowly move the elves to another location. It had been one of her potential plans once Alistair took back the throne. It was a long shot, but they could relocate them slowly.

No one noticed a few going missing via slavery so why would they notice them disappearing when no one reported it? Of course there was no telling how much the Qun knew about what was going on here. “How did you talk them into it? I didn't know how I would convince people that these changes would help them. The few I tried to help were actually fairly rude. And how have you kept this from the Nobles?”

Merrill glanced at Alistair nervously then said, “'The Broker' may have … spread some rumors about your … origins.”

“WHAT?!” Luna felt her heart skip a beat in horror.

_Oh fuck this is a disaster. So much for laying low._

“He told us what happened in Amaranthine … that You sang in ancient _**Elvhen**_.”

“Shit. If the rumors get back to the Chantry and the Templars … they'll have to come after me. If the Nobles see me as a threat THEY'LL be after me as well.”

Merrill shook her head quickly saying, “No, it's a good thing … mostly. No one will ever willingly give you over to the Templars. You're music healed the _**Vhenadahl**_ in not one, but TWO cities. We used that to … convince the city elves that you were an … Ancient.”

Luna rubbed her temples, trying to stave off the instant headache. “MERRILL! You know that's not TRUE!”

Merrill folded her arms defensively, “Well we had to tell them something, or they would never have listened. Being a Dalish seems to make people think I know everything about the ancient _**Elvhen**_. That's not true though, we've lost so much of our history.”

She leveled an accusatory glare at Luna and continued with growing defiance. “You know more than you tell us. I could always see it in your eyes, the way you would hesitate, as though you wanted to tell me something, but were afraid to. I know everyone thinks I am just a silly little girl, but I was First to my clan. A clan I left so that I could help the People. I saw the chance to wake the elves of the cities. I am not sorry that I took it.”

“Merrill … I'm sorry … You're right. I know more than I've told you … its just the Dalish are so ...” Luna played with her braids, starting to undo them, in what was becoming a nervous habit.

“Stubborn?” The elven mage asked, smiling wistfully.

“I was going to say dangerously dogmatic ...” Luna winced. “... but your way is much nicer.” She really needed to work on a little thing called tact. Luckily Merrill didn't seem offended. “And what does Keeper Marethari think of all this Merrill,” she asked cocking an eyebrow at the elf.

Merrill actually blushed saying, “I may have … forgotten to mention what I've been up to in the city. It's not like she would approve anyway.”

“Uh huh … which means the Dalish here … they aren't from your clan. Son-of-a-bitch how far have the rumors already spread?” Clearing her throat she diverted away from the topic of the Dalish saying, “So ... did you tell everyone I ... died?”

The look on her friend's faces was enough to tell her the answer. “Fuck me sideways.” Alistair choked and sputtered on his tea. “They're going to think I rose from the dead now aren't they.”

_Oh this is bad. There's no way to contain something like this. Then again, with who knows how many Earthers running around Thedas there probably wasn't going to ever be a way to keep everything on track. I mean, I've only been here for half a year, and I couldn't help but meddle. Helena was here for at least two, who knows how long Vollmond has been mucking things up. Not to mention, I have no idea where Flynn is ..._

Alistair coughed into his hand, trying to clear the tea from his lungs, before replying. “We had nothing to do with THOSE rumors. We hadn't even gotten back to the city before they started.”

“Of course not Alistair! All it would have taken is one stray comment from Merrill, Turrik, or Aveline and people took it from there! That's the problem with rumors! They grow, and twist, and bend out of all proportion! FUUuUuuUuuuckkk.” She began pacing around the room. “That's why they were staring and being all … deferential. I thought they were bowing to YOU. This is a problem, a HUGE problem.”

“They were actually bowing to me AND you. Many of the elves here are Fereldan refugees. Word of my ties to King Maric and then subsequent banishment have spread. The Broker has also made it clear I'm protecting them.”

“Well … that's good news at least.”

“Hardly, 'someone' has sent at least two assassins after me since your disappearance ... That reminds me I have a friend I want to introduce to you later.”

She couldn't help it, she stopped her pacing and gave him a significant look. “You mean Zevran don't you."

Alistair stared at her in bemusement, smiled, and shook his head. “That's … I don't know how you do that but it's unnerving.”

“Seer. If I explained it in any more detail you wouldn't understand anyway. That's not an insult, you simply have no frame of reference that will allow you to comprehend my world unless I find a way to SHOW you. And since I have no connection to the Fade currently … Stick with Seer, its less complicated.” She bit her lip nervously, and resumed pacing a hole in Merrill's new rug.

Alistair and Merrill exchanged looks before the elf finally spoke. “Luna. Hawke has strange tales about HIM and he seems to handle it well. Varric changes the stories about him every night at the Hanged Man. Maybe you're over reacting?” Merrill said smiling a little too sweetly.

“That's because HAWKE is insane! Look at all the crazy shit he does in a WEEK!? … this isn't … well its not completely your fault. Arrghh.” Luna came to a decision then, these were her friends, and she didn't want them endangered. “I didn't tell you everything I learned while I was Hadriana's prisoner. Helena wasn't the only one of my kind here. In Thedas I mean.”

Alistair nodded saying, “So we had gathered. Well that's good news isn't it? You're not alone then?”

Luna winced. “Noooo. There's at least one other, named Vollmond, and he's … well there's no easy way to say this but he's gone rogue. Completely bat-shit evil from what I've been able to gather. I'm fairly certain he gave Helena to the Bloodmages of Tevinter, that he arranged for Hadriana to keep her alive.” She clamped down on the fear the rose in her at the mere mention of the woman. “If the rumors spread far enough word will get back to him, and he'll be able to track me down. I'd rather not be the next person he turns his attentions toward!”

Alistair looked grim, but rose and grabbed Luna by the shoulders to stop her pacing. “Luna. Whatever it is we'll meet it. I don't pretend to understand everything you tell us. But as far as I'm concerned, you are the best thing to happen to Thedas in an Age. You need to relax, let us worry about things for a little while. Sit down, drink tea, read a book … play your lute.”

Luna glared at the ground. Logically, she knew that Alistair was right, she needed time to recover fully.

“You know I can't do that.”

He sighed resignedly. “I know … but I thought it was worth a try.”

“The first thing I need to do is speak with Varric and get a message to 'the Broker.' I need them to spread as many outlandish tales about what I look like as possible. It might already be too late to fool anyone who's already met me in Kirkwall, but hopefully it will muddle things a bit.” Taking a calming breath Luna sat back down in her large comfortable chair. “We can do this. Just … one thing at a time.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Korean) Kumiho : **9 tailed fox**  
> 
> 
> (Mandarin)Huli Jing : **Fox spirit**  
>  Jiuweihu : **9 tailed fox**  
> 
> 
> (Japanese)Kitsune : **Fox (in this case the spirit variety)**  
> 
> 
> (Elvish)Vhenadahl : **Tree of the People**  
>  Elvhen : **Elven name for their own race (Literally) our people**


	32. LIBERATED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay ... so we're going to go with you guys getting AT LEAST one chapter a week. I couldn't bring myself to wait to post this one any longer. Patience ... I don't have any. :P
> 
> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Luna woke choking on her own screams. Sweat had plastered the sheets to her body like a macabre second skin. Her back felt like it was crawling with insects, the plasticky skin unwilling to stretch as she arched her back, trying to escape the pain that bloomed with her into wakefulness. It took her a moment to recognize the voice that called to her, desperately trying to bring her out of whatever nightmare still clung to her sleep fogged mind.

“Merrill ...” she gasped.

“Yes. Are you well? I've been trying to wake you. It must have been a terrible nightmare, you couldn't hear me. I had to shake you awake, you are dangerous even when asleep, you've given me another bruise.” The elf was wiping down her forehead, trying to remove the worst of the sweat.

“I'm sorry. It was nothing. A memory. I'm fine.” Luna tried to swallow, but her throat and tongue were desiccated, her saliva long since run dry.

_I'm not fine. I'm about a thousand years from fine. They're getting worse._

Merrill looked at her with her keen eyes and Luna could tell she didn't believe her. Still the woman said nothing, instead bringing her a cup of willow bark tea and a clean blanket. Luna thanked her, sipping the bitter beverage with a sigh. Her friends had insisted she needed to bunk with one of them for the foreseeable future. She had thought it silly at the time, in hindsight they had been correct. Luna had been foolish to think she could leave behind what had been done to her as easily as Hadriana's corpse.

“I thought they would go away,” she whispered in resignation.

“It's only been a few weeks Luna. You were … tortured for such a long time. You were a prisoner for even longer, even if you were unconscious for most of it. I know you don't wish to speak of it, but … maybe it would help if you told someone, anyone, what was done to you?” Merrill sighed, knowing Luna would reject the idea yet again. “They will get better.”

“I hope so. I'm not sure I can keep doing this. I'm afraid to sleep Merrill. This is the fourth time this week. You can't be getting enough rest with my constant whining.”

Merrill cast her a stern look, her sweet reassurances becoming a lecture just as quickly. “You are not whining. This is not a weakness. And we've talked about all this before. You were tortured, and you need time. I do not judge you for it. None of us do. Plenty of much stronger warriors have been broken by less. Now. Drink your tea, and I will draw you a bath. A BATH, not a shower. You heard Anders the last time. You need to relax.” The elven woman stormed out of the room and Luna grimaced.

Instead of listening she dressed herself in her light armor as quickly and quietly as possible. Her heart was still hammering, and she didn't want to sit in the bath. She needed to be doing something, she needed to move. Luna threw on the necklace that had been gifted to her by Sandal. Alistair had presented it to her only days before. They had found it among the loot that was being sorted for sale. Part of Luna felt guilty about sneaking out, but she was not a child, and she wouldn't be treated like one.

The cool predawn air of the Alienage was a welcome feeling on her clammy skin. She knew that Merrill would be searching for her momentarily and she didn't want to be caught so soon. The buildings loomed over her as though preparing to crush her beneath them. She took off at a full run at the inward corner of Merrill's building, and launched herself up the side.

Hand holds were easy enough to find and she ignored the erratic beating of her heart in favor of the excitement of climbing to the roof. Luna wanted to see the sky. After a frantic climb she found herself staring up into the infinite night. The stars splashed across the sky in a display so different than any view on Earth. Every star was perfect. Even the fires of Kirkwall were unable to dull their radiance.

She heard Merrill open her door, calling for Luna, her voice heavy with concern. So she ran, charging along the rooftops, unsure what she was truly fleeing from. Luna didn't want the weight of responsibility of Merrill's hurt feelings. She didn't want to think about what had happened in Hadriana's dungeon, and she sure as hell didn't want to think about the future. Luna rolled, dove, and climbed her way across the city with more confidence than she thought she was capable of.

Kirkwall had changed her in more than outlook, it had changed her body. Not the physical changes wrought by magic, but those earned through hard work and sweat. She was halfway to Hightown when she finally realized she was being followed. The figure shadowed her, not even trying to hide from her view. She paid the interloper no attention until she realized they were catching up to her. She used a shortcut to make it to the intimidating central staircase, and still they followed close behind, even as she leapt back onto the rooftops.

Thrilled by the prospect of a good chase she doubled her pace, and readied a dagger in one hand. She had no destination in mind, simply allowing the cityscape to lead her feet. It intrigued her that anyone would be up in the rooftops at all. Despite the elves beginning to use the oft ignored space, most Thedosians still didn't look up. This included the criminal underworld; barring the occasional thief or assassin. Which was chasing her she wondered. She ducked behind an outcropping and waited for the intruder. A heartbeat later he rounded the corner and came abruptly upon the shadows in which she hid.

She lunged with her dagger at her pursuer and was surprised when every strike was skillfully deflected by a large sword. “Luna,” he hissed and she reassessed her foe. The familiar silhouette of a certain white haired elf caused her to pause. With a laugh she swept out with her leg, causing him to stumble. Moonlight flashed across his startled features and she took off running even faster. He cursed in Tevene and she laughed again, urging him to follow, even as she tried to lose him.

“Luna,” he called out, trying to head her off at the next roof. She ignored him as long as she could, bounding over an alley, and then clearing an archway. He never faltered, never losing sight of her. She was impressed, and wondered what he planned to do to stop her. Luna squeaked in surprise when he tackled her onto a familiar balcony, straddling her, while pinning her in place.

“What's an elf like you doing skulking in the dark?” she asked with a smirk.

Fenris narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on her wrists, and forcing her to drop the dagger. “That was foolish. Merrill is no doubt beside herself over this latest stunt."

Luna growled, low in her throat, the animalistic sound coming easier to her now. Fenris' legs tightened, keeping her immobile as she struggled. “I'm not a newborn to be swaddled and preened over.” She waited until his grip loosened, then used his own body weight to reverse their positions. His stunned expression made the entire run worth it.

“So ...” she said breathlessly, finally noticing she had somehow managed to lead them to HIS balcony. She wasn't sure what to say to him. They hadn't spoken since the incident in the forest. If he was expecting anything from her he hadn't said anything either. The fact she was sitting atop him, with growing evidence that suggested he might have something else in mind for the evening, didn't help her thought process.

“So ...” he echoed back to her, his voice rumbling in a way that she'd always found attractive. He startled her when he threw her off of him and she rolled backwards, retrieving her dagger and smoothly rising to her feet. “You have been avoiding me. I had thought you enjoyed what occurred between us.” He strode toward her as he spoke and she leaned her back against the railing, one hand bracing her in case she needed to escape.

_Occurred. Like the weather. Or an accident._

She responded without thinking as she sheathed her dagger and immediately regretted it. “I did … I mean. Fuck.” Luna frowned, being that honest hadn't been part of her plan.

“Yes, that is what I was referring to,” he said with a smirk and she was suddenly very aware of how close he was standing next to her. He glanced at the hand on the railing with a serious expression on his face. “If I offended you I must apologize. I had thought … I was under the impression you were agreeable.”

“Oh, well. No, I mean yes, I was very agreeable.” Luna was thankful the moons were not full, her face was burning like a brand. She wasn't sure where the conversation was leading, but speaking with Fenris was a pleasant distraction from her nightmare. “I'm sorry I didn't … I didn't mean to avoid you, not really, I meant to speak to you about ... this, some time ago. My head isn't exactly in a good place right now. You didn't do anything to upset me.”

Fenris glanced at her and her heart began to race. The intensity in his eyes, caused her blood to rush to the more intimate regions of her body, suffusing her with a subtle warmth. “May I ask … why you felt the need to risk plummeting to your death at such an hour,” he asked.

She shot him a scowl that lost its heat with the smile that tugged at her lips. “May I ask what you were doing stalking me at such an hour?”

_You're bantering. You're not supposed to banter with the hot elf!_

He chuckled then and she felt her resolve melting at the sound of it. “I was ensuring you wouldn't plummet to your death. Obviously.”

“Obviously ...” she breathed, and was pleasantly surprised when he captured her lips with his own. This kiss was softer than their last, though no less passionate. Again she found herself returning it, losing herself in the sensation of the elf's mouth on hers. She stared at him, dazed when he suddenly released her, trying to figure out why he would stop. His anatomy was definitely all for continuing, but he reined himself in with seemingly little effort.

“Why here,” he asked suddenly. “You could have gone anywhere. Yet you chose to run here.”

“I … I'm not sure. I didn't think about where I was going.” She licked her lips, pulse still pounding with desire and arousal. “Do you want me to leave?” Luna absently ran a finger up his bicep, accidentally brushing the Lyrium in his skin, causing it to flare, as Fenris gave a gasp. From this proximity she was able to see his pupils dilate, and he suddenly pushed her away.

His jaw clenched tightly he backed away further; the Lyrium glowing brightly as the energy reached for her. He was breathing hard, and shook his head as he tried to regain control of his brands. Luna shuddered as the tendrils caressed her skin, leaving a pleasurable sensation in their wake. “I do not wish for you to go,” he groaned. “However … perhaps we should … keep our distance for the time being.”

Luna swallowed, and nodded in agreement. At least he wasn't attacking her this time. He seemed to calm as the glow dimmed, and gazed at her wistfully. “I'm sorry. This didn't go as I had intended.”

“And what did you intend Fenris?” Luna whispered dejectedly. She didn't wait for an answer, instead vaulting over the railing. Luna landed in a roll, swiftly running down the street, and out of view. She heard Fenris cursing, still up on the balcony and laughed. If he wasn't going to help her feel better, then she had an idea on what might do the trick. There was a Chantry nearby, and she felt they were due a little visit from her.

* * * * * *

Hawke, arms crossed, glared at her as she hung upside down from the _**Vhenadahl,**_ gazing at him innocently. Luna was in the process of installing a standing swing. Every large tree deserved to have a swing in it. She preferred a standing swing as you could gain more height on them. It also made jumping from them easier … not that she would ever encourage elven children to risk flying from a swing … much.

“You heard me. I know you had something to do with it. Fenris saw you leaving the Chantry giggling like a mad woman.”

“Oh, so the elf finally caught up to me did he. I plead ignorance.”

“Luna. I know it had to be you. Whatever possessed you to steal enough Chantry robes for ten donkeys? How did you even get the donkeys into the building with no one seeing you?!”

“The real question you should be asking yourself … is how I could have convinced the donkeys to wear said robes. That would have been the difficult part. They are extremely unflattering … the robes, not the donkeys. Donkeys are sweethearts.” Finally finishing the swing she landed in front of Hawke with a flourish.

“The Templars were chasing them down for hours. I've been approached by no less than five different priests, and several members of the Nobility, insisting I find and apprehend the culprit.”

“How could they tell?” Luna asked with a bland expression.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I didn't think a couple more jackasses in robes would have been noticed.”

Hawke blinked, staring at her for a few moments before breaking out in a grin. “That … HORRIBLE punchline … that was the whole point wasn't it.”

“Well … I assume so. As I had nothing to do with it. I can't tell you for sure.” Luna was grinning like an idiot. She knew, and Hawke knew, that she was guilty of the crime. They also both knew there was no way to prove she'd been the one to do it and that Hawke had no intention of turning her in.

“You're insane.”

“Look who's talking? I'm not the one that took on a cave full of dragon babies.” Luna hopped onto her newly constructed swing and proceeded to … well, swing. Hawke watched as she taught several children how to use the new toy, before finally forcing her to accompany him. Her heart felt lighter than it had in a a long time. Laughter was a force of nature, and children's laughter could work miracles.

She resisted until Hawke mentioned that he needed her help killing another group of slavers. Expression grim, she immediately retrieved her heavier armor and new bow from Merrill's apartment. “You'd think they would have realized how dangerous it is for them to continue harassing Kirkwall.”

“Never underestimate stupidity made bold by greed.”

“That was almost profound Hawke. Look at you trying to sound all smart.” She gave him an assessing glance, and broke into a leering grin. “Are you trying to impress Anders with big words?” She skillfully dodged the bracer Hawke threw at her face. “Or are you trying to impress him with other, big things ... You know that sounded better in my head.”

Hawke was the one smirking now. “Yet still somehow accurate.”

“I'd stick with the comments, swinging that thing around in public probably isn't a good idea. Especially when there are children present.” Hawke gaped at her in stunned silence before coming to his senses. Leaving the apartment the two friends continued to bicker the entire way towards the Hanged Man.

* * * * * *

Luna couldn't believe the nerve of these raiders. They were like cockroaches. If one of them did manage to survive this time hopefully they would spread the word of what happened to slavers on her turf. Fenris, Merrill, and Alistair had been 'volunteered' to join them on this little excursion and she had spent the last several hours convincing them it was a good idea. Fenris had been particularly unhappy, and she was just glad he was back to being angry with her. It was less confusing.

'The Broker' had sent word that a small community of elves was being raided. Based on the description it was more like a shanty community of farmers, barely eking out a living. She was impressed that they would even try, but setting up this close to Tevinter was just a really bad idea. Considering most Thedosians were uneducated, they probably didn't even realize how close they were to the 'evil empire.' The Chantry, like any business, wanted its customers buying into the product without question. The less educated a population, the easier it was to herd them like sheep.

The slavers, or bandits, the message hadn't been too clear on which it was exactly, were supposed to be raiding the village at dusk. The elves would be tired from a day of back breaking labor, and so less likely to show resistance. Luna had insisted on keeping their pace brisk. Knowing Hawke's luck, something was likely to go wrong, and the sooner they got there the better. The sun beat down on them and she was grateful they were still by the sea. Without the breeze the trek would have been unbearable.

She didn't realize she was humming until Hawke brought her attention to it. He sarcastically asked, “Wherever is that terrifying screeching coming from?” He was obviously aware that it was coming from her.

“Says the bearded monstrosity that can't carry a tune.” Luna was in a supremely good mood still, and poking fun at Hawke would help pass the time.

“I'll have you know I've an excellent singing voice.”

“True. If you're into darkspawn.”

Alistair snickered and Hawke shot him an accusatory glance. He gave an exaggerated gasp saying, “Traitor!”

“Sorry Hawke. It was funny,” Alistair said, not sounding sorry in the least. Merrill was giggling as well now and joined in on ribbing the poor Champion. Luna smiled widely as she caught Fenris looking at her in amusement. He turned away without a word, instead running off to scout ahead. Luna spent the rest of the morning in silent contemplation of where to place her next step. The last thing she needed was an eyeful of the graceful elf.

She was wrenched out of her reverie when she caught a whiff of smoke, and the echoes of screaming. Glancing at the sun she realized it was only just past mid-day. “Fuck. I knew it. They've already started the attack!” She took off running, only to see that Fenris was already engaged with a sizable group. He was holding his own, but one of them was approaching him from behind, intending to blindside him. If she were to yell a warning the enemies before him would overwhelm him with sheer numbers.

Charging in silently she circled around the enemy and closed in from the flank. The rest of her companions followed close behind. Merrill threw a barrier over Fenris and she breathed a sigh of relief. Their intelligence must have been off, men on horseback were already torching the small village, and women and children were being herded into cages. The reek of blood filled her senses, and Luna felt no remorse as she plunged her dagger into Fenris' attacker.

Hawke cut a flaming swath through the remaining enemies before charging off on his own, Fenris in tow. Luna came to her senses and drew her bow. What on earth had she been thinking, flinging herself into combat like that? There were at least a dozen of the bastards presenting themselves as easy targets from a distance. Taking a steadying breath, she cast **Draconic Might** and began to drop the nearest bandits.

She didn't need the spell to draw her bow, but the added strength meant she could pull faster, and the greater endurance was welcome. Her arrows struck with precision, and enough power to unhorse her first target. She took down two men trying to rape an elven woman, and took perverse pleasure in giving them a slow, painful death. Her shots could be clean kills when she wanted them to be. Rapists didn't deserve her consideration.

Luna caught a glimpse of a dark haired man being severely beaten and fished out another arrow. He was barely clothed, only wearing some sort of impromptu loincloth. By his build she noted that he was definitely not elven, which probably meant the poor man was elf-blooded. She didn't want to think about why he might be missing his clothing, and was hoping it wasn't another instance of slaver rape. Instead Luna made quick work of his assailants, then moved on toward the cages.

Merrill ran up behind her and Luna called to her to relay a capture request to Hawke. They needed to interrogate the Slavers and find out why they had attacked early. It was a long shot, but any information would help at this point. The mage nodded in response and ran off to deliver the message. She began to pick the lock on the first cage that she had reached and paused when she felt magic building up behind her.

The elven prisoners screamed incoherently, and she was surprised when she was suddenly engulfed in flame. It only lasted a few moments as she absorbed them, and she smirked as she stalked towards the the Tevinter mage. He tried to hit her with his staff and she caught it absently with one hand, wrenching it from his grasp as she absorbed his misfired spell. The fledgling mage turned seeking escape but Luna didn't pursue him.

Noticing the feel of the staff still clasped in her hand she swung it experimentally, and stood in breathless excitement when she found herself twirling it about as though she had trained with one her entire life. Unlike the Mages of Thedas she wielded it to augment the fluid movement of her body in a dance that was achingly familiar. She was treating the weapon like a BO-staff, and couldn't help the giddy laughter that escaped her. Oriental martial arts didn't exist in Thedas and she was relatively confidant no one would know how to defend against it.

* _Whoa, I know kung fu._

She felt a twinge in the back of her mind, grasping at something within the staff, and when it connected she nearly dropped it with a startled gasp. Her eyes began to glow, and there was frightened mewling from the nearby cages, but she ignored them, looking around the world in a new light. Surrounding her in the air, permeating everything, Luna could see the Veil. It reacted to her movements like silk, rippling around everyone and everything in view. Using the same part of her mind that had connected with the staff she could almost …

Merrill placed a hand on her shoulder and the trance broke with an audible snap. The elven woman looked at her in surprise as the glow from Luna's eyes faded. “Are you alright Luna?” She had never heard the elven woman so hesitant.

“I'm fine. Um … there was a mage. He tried to hit me.” Luna handed the staff to her and went back to picking the lock of the nearby cage. The padlock was crude and she had it open in no time. The elves refused to leave the confines of the cage, staring at her in terror, and she sighed in exasperation. “If you like I could LEAVE you here and you could spend the rest of your life in chains. Or you could conjure some courage and … walk out.” She turned her back after her snide comment and searched out Hawke, uninterested in which way things played out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vhenadahl : **Tree of the People**  
>  * A line said by Neo in the movie 'The Matrix'


	33. CLEANUP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Luna flexed her hands staring at them, slightly bewildered, as she left the cowering elves in Merrill's care. She should probably have been disturbed by their reaction, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Wielding the staff had come to her as second nature. The movements had been graceful yes, but full of an aggressive intent lacking in Thedosian staff fighting. Mages here moved in line with the flow of their mana, this had been utterly different, her body twirling through the air as readily as the weapon. Her body had BECOME the weapon.

She had always admired martial artists, but had never had the privilege of learning any for herself. That honor had been reserved for the boy child in her family, courtesy entrenched sexism, while she had been forced into endless music lessons. It hadn't stopped her from suffering through every noisy gym video on YouTube. Yet this new knowledge, now unlocked, seemed to call her, begging to be unleashed again, and it frightened her.

Luna not only knew how to swing the staff artfully; she knew how it should be used to stun, and even kill an opponent. It were as though the knowledge had always been there, and touching the staff had simply … unlocked it. What was even stranger was the fact that it had all seemed like muscle memory.

Then there was the strange way her mana had reacted to holding a Mage's staff. Even now she could sense the power thrumming in what seemed to be an ordinary hunk of wood. She knew she could drain it completely, absorbing the power into herself like a leech, but that seemed such a waste. Then there was the fact that she could almost see the Veil all around them still, even without her Magesight. It lingered, like the remnants of a very intense dream, or the aura left by a too bright light.

Luna was pleasantly surprised to see that the team had cleared the entire village of intruders. The sad collection of flimsy wood was still burning, and she doubted they could save any of the buildings. Her heart ached for a moment as she thought of all the hard work that had gone into this little collection of timber. Fenris stepped aside as she approached and revealed two bound prisoners laying face down in the dirt. Luna smiled in grim satisfaction as the stink of the slavers' fear enveloped her.

Hawke forcefully lifted them to a kneeling position as she approached clearly enjoying the pain filled groans and yelps emitted because of his rough treatment. One of them didn't look old enough to have left his mother's apron strings behind. The other was a seasoned veteran by the look of him, gray streaking through his scraggly beard. The commanding glance he sent the frightened boy made it clear which of the two was in charge.

Luna squatted in front of the youngster with a smile that may have been a little TOO friendly saying, “Well … aren't you a pretty one.”

“Yes'um,” the boy muttered, looking at her wide eyed and afraid. How much of it was feigned she wondered. She wasn't naive enough to believe that his age meant his was an innocent. He had been part of a raiding party that had not only slaughtered defenseless farmers, but would have sold them into slavery. Not to mention what those same men had been doing to a fair number of the women.

“Oh, good. You sound like a reasonable man as well.” She caught Hawke rolling his eyes but continued her honey sweet approach … for now. “We were told you lot weren't going to attack until the evening. Why the sudden change of plans sweeting?”

“Um …” He glanced at his companion in apparent nervousness.

Scruffy interrupted, snapping at the youth. “Keep your mouth shut boy!”

Luna backhanded the older man hard enough to draw blood while emitting something between a bark, and a screech. It startled everyone around her, though she recognized the sound immediately. It was probably the most fox like noise she'd ever emitted. She hadn't thought about it, had simply reached out on impulse, and quickly hid her own surprise.

The urge to commit violence was still very much at the forefront of her mind. She would need to quash it. This wasn't like her … at least she had thought it wasn't. “Keep your mouth shut old man. I was having a nice conversation, and I hate interruptions. They're so rude.” Luna turned back to the youth, who looked like he was about to wet himself. The growling animal quality in her voice probably hadn't helped in that regard. “Here's the way I see it. You're leaving this battlefield one of two ways. Either you give me what I want to know, or I give you a slow … painful death. So I'll ask again. Why did your disgusting band of raping, slaving, garbage attack early?”

“Orders.” he said without hesitation.

“SHUT UP!” his elder yelled in horror. “You'll get us all killed!”

“Sorry Cap'n. My life means more'un this rutting job.” He lifted his chin in defiance at the gruff man before turning back to Luna. “I didn't want nothin' to do with this. They didn' tell me we was slavin'. Just a bit of thieving on the side like eh? We were gonna to be attackin' this evenin' like yous heard. Like I said. We was ordered to attack early. Some'ut got wind you was coming, and we were ordered to ...”

The older man yelled loudly and lunged for the boy she was interrogating. He'd somehow freed himself from his ropes and before anyone could stop him he grabbed the boy by his head and repeatedly bashed his head into the ground. He was obviously overcome by fear and panic, screaming, “I SAID SHUT UP!” The boy was dead before Luna even had a chance to register what had happened.

Fenris managed to grab him from behind, but the man continued to struggle yelling, “I hope you got some good use out of the boy, because you'll get nothing from me you whore!”

Luna stalked over to the newly restrained man. She felt strangely hollow, her emotions having bled away with the boy's life. “Truly,” she asked blandly.

“You better believe It!” he growled. “I stays bought!”

“I believe you.” Luna roughly grabbed his head between her hands and abruptly broke his neck with a sickening crack.

Alistair looked between the corpse and Luna with a slightly horrified expression asking, “Why did you do that?”

“He was telling the truth, we weren't going to get anything out of him.”

“... but you didn't have to kill him.”

Luna snapped at him harshly. “Would you have cared for him until we returned to Kirkwall? What then? We give him to Aveline so that whoever his employer is can bribe a guard and he walks free in a month? NO. It was better this way.” Alistair took a step back from her, and she realized she'd been growling and barking like a fox again. She needed to calm down, all this blood in the air wasn't helping her suppress this new side of herself. “I'm going to check for stragglers, maybe someone else survived. Dispose of that for me. OH and don't forget to loot the bodies.”

The slaver captain's body was left where it lay, and Luna couldn't feel sorry for it. The man obviously had no intention of telling them anything, and rehabilitation was out of the question. She shook her head looking at the corpse of the younger slaver sadly. There at least had been the potential of salvaging this one, too bad she'd moved too slowly to save him.

Hawke turned and marched off towards the pen where the rest of the captured elves were being held. Various hushed conversations made a din in the air that made her head ache with every word. The elves were lamenting in tears, as many of them had lost family in the attack. She should have felt sympathy, but all it seemed to do was annoy her. What had these idiots been THINKING building so close to a slaving Nation, with no way to defend themselves or their children? A few moments later, as Luna was in the process of locating survivors, she heard a voice rise above all the others.

“ **Over my rotting corpse**!"

Thunderstruck by the realization that the voice was speaking in English she whipped her head around in the direction it had come from. For a moment she stood there stunned, her mind having trouble coming to terms with the recognition. Other than Helena she had not heard English spoken in quite some time, and never by a male, as was now the case. 

Over by the pen where the prisoners were being held she saw the half naked man, that she had assumed was elf-blooded, threatening Hawke. They were apparently in the middle of a heated conversation, in which neither could understand the other. However at the volume of their raised voices, Luna could make out the stranger's words clearly.

“ **I saw what you did over there! You stood by and let that fucker smash in that kid's head, then MURDERED HIM! What kind of sick douche bags are you people?! Is this a gambling thing? I'll be damned if I'm going to let you drag another person over there**!!” He was inexpertly brandishing a sword he must have looted during the chaos. She felt the anger drain away to nothing in that moment. He thought he was defending the elves … from Hawke. 

_ I guess he couldn't see TOO well, or he'd know it wasn't Hawke … it was me. _

At this point, Luna who had **Accelerated** to reach them, came to a sudden stop between the two before it could escalate further. Hawke had his staff drawn back defensively, but seemed to be holding back, which she appreciated. She was grateful that he must have recognized the sound of English or this poor guy would be a smear.

“ **Whoa! Whoa, there buddy, calm down**!” 

“ **Holy shit where did you come from**?!” He looked shocked at her use of English, but it quickly changed into relief. “ **Oh thank god. You speak English! Tell this asshole to back off**!” The young man was obviously terrified, his arms shaking with the strain of holding up the unfamiliar weapon. Though judging from the look in his eye he had every intention of killing Hawke if he approached any closer to the elves.

“ **Okay, hold on a sec … just ... hold your horses. There's been a HUGE misunderstanding**." She turned to Hawke saying, “Don't worry about the prisoners just yet. Give me some time with our new friend here so I can calm him down.” Hawke raised an eyebrow, glancing at the man incredulously, then looked back at her in concern. Luna laughed at his expression saying, “I'll be fine. Go check on the others will you?” The elves in the pens began crying out then, begging to be set free as Hawke backed away. 

“ **See? Hawke was just trying to set them free. The men earlier were part of the attacker's group. I'm the one that shot the men trying to … capture you. At least I hope that's all they managed to do. You need to let us, let them out of that pen. Look at them, they're reaching for us, calling for our help. You have eyes and ears. Use them. Do they look like they're afraid of Hawke, or afraid of you**?”

He did reluctantly glance over and when confronted with the elves begging for release slowly lowered his weapon. “ **They're … they're not human. That's not possible. What kind of tree-hugging horseshit is this**?” He sounded exhausted, and completely out of his depth. Luna felt a wave of sympathy at the trembling in his voice. Everything about the man pointed to the fact he had no idea that he was in Thedas. “ **Where … where the fuck am I**?”

“ **We got off on the wrong foot. I know this is a lot to take in. How about we start over? My name is Luna, what's yours?** ” She reached for a handshake and he looked at it in surprise before dropping the sword and grasping it like a life line. He shook it a little too vigorously, causing her teeth to rattle.

When he responded it was in a quiet, disbelieving whisper. “ **Alon … Alon Cooper. I'd say it was nice to meet you, but I've had one hell of a day so far**.” He had the soft hint of a southern accent, and if she had to guess, he was from one of the Carolinas. He was pretty beat up, face bruised and swelling, and was sporting a busted lip. She noted she couldn't read his aura, it flashed too quickly, much like Helena's had, shifting dramatically with every breath. 

**“I'm going to call my friend over to let them out now.”** He only nodded in response, perhaps unable find any words that were appropriate. 

Luna turned to the Mage who waited patiently on a hill. “Hawke, you can let these poor elves out now, I got it sorted.” Hawke nodded to them both before walking over to the holding pen and blowing the lock open with a spell. Alon jumped at the sudden flash of magic and she found herself wondering when it had all become commonplace for her. " **How long have you been here?** ” Luna gestured to the smoldering ruins that surrounded them. He carefully avoided looking at the slowly growing pile of bodies.

“ **Seein' as I don't know where I am … that's a little difficult to say. I woke up maybe an hour ago in a clearing not too far from this … town**?” Looking about the remaining makeshift buildings Luna couldn't blame him for being skeptical about calling it such. Elves mourned around them, gathering the bodies of their loved ones, and trying to salvage what they could from the wreckage. She would never get used to the needless pain people inflicted on each other.

He was still clad in nothing more than a piece of cast off cloth tied about his waist. From the looks of it he'd torn it from a burlap sack. He was lithe, though not skinny, and she could see his corded muscles ripple beneath his skin as he moved. As her gaze shifted upward she found herself looking into a young face bearing the scar of an eyebrow piercing. He wore his mouse brown hair in a buzz-cut that screamed military. He seemed embarrassed as she scrutinized him, stammering, “ **I woke up in nothin' but my birthday suit … ma'am**.”

Luna smirked saying, “ **Ma'am? Where are you from exactly? Don't you know that makes women feel old**? **Ick, never call me that again.** ”

“ **Fayetteville … North Carolina ma'am … I mean Sir.** ” He took a stance that could only be parade rest and she wondered if he'd been stationed at Fort Brag. He was either enlisted, or had spent much of his childhood around the armed forces. Of course she was only guessing, but it seemed to fit. He was probably reacting to her in the only way that made any sense to him right now. She supposed she had sort of taken charge today, she would have to apologize to Hawke later.

“ **At ease soldier. You're going to sprain something.** ” He gave her a sheepish grin, showing off perfect white teeth that made her a little self conscious. She hadn't had access to whitening toothpaste in quite some time, and had forgotten the strange American obsession with blinding teeth. She was just glad she'd been able to find an equivalent to toothpaste, even if it tasted like elfroot. Hers were no doubt returned to a more natural shade, though she counted herself lucky to have all her teeth still. Many in Kirkwall were lucky to have any teeth at all … at least that was her observation in the Hanged Man.

When she saw that he was shivering Luna removed the cloak from her pack and draped it over the poor man, who wrapped himself in it gratefully. “ **Well Alon ... I don't know if you were a Gamer … But you're never going to believe this shit.** ”

Alon looked at her from underneath the cloak with a look so full of confusion it made her smile. “ **Ummm … Gamer? What does that have to do with anything?** ”

 **“Well … have you ever played any of the games in the Dragon Age series**?”

“ **No, I'm a Witcher fan myself.**”

“ **Then this really isn't your lucky day. For reasons which I hope will become clear … to both of us. You've been yanked from our world, and dropped into the Dragon Age franchise. Welcome to Thedas.**” 

As he stood there his mouth agape Fenris strode over and interrupted them looking broodier than normal. “Luna. I apologize. However we have found something you may wish to see with your own eyes.”

She furrowed her brow and apologized to Alon. The full explanation would have to wait until later, but she directed him to Merrill to find him some clothing. The elven woman took one look at the poor human and guided him toward the now unclaimed gear. As they couldn't communicate with words, Merrill used hand gestures and pushing. It probably would have been funnier if he hadn't looked like he might lose his lunch at any moment.

Fenris led her back in the direction of the Captain's corpse. Alistair was holding a belt, staring at the man as if he wanted to kill him again. Considering he had been angry at her for executing him only a short time before she was mildly surprised. Alistair held out a piece of parchment he'd found in a hidden seam along with a few gold coins.

  
  


_**QUOTA: 25 female. 15 male. 10 children male/female No babes.** _

_**Rendezvous: 2 weeks from receiving missive. Kirkwall gallows. Midnight.** _

_**Payment on delivery. Retain Seal as proof of legitimate sale.** _

  
  


Luna stared at the Seal on the bottom, pressed into the missive in blood red wax. Her hands began to shake as she realized what she held. “Alistair … who's Seal is this?”

His face seemed to darken as a grim expression settled there. “That's the personal Seal of the Exchequer of the Royal family of Fereldan. Anora's personal accountant to the house of Mac Tir."

“Holy shit. This is it. We have her.” 

“Yes. It's time to free my people.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who takes the time to comment. Your feedback makes this all worth it, and helps to inspire the next chapter.
> 
> It also helps to know what you all think and calms my nerves. I'm in this for the long haul, and hope you'll continue to take the journey with me. :)


	34. EVIDENCE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SOOOOoooOOOoo sorry! I meant to post days ago, but ... you know, LIFE.  
> *Throws extra long chapter at everyone as an apology and runs*
> 
> // I've edited this some to change how Fenris was coming across, and to clarify Cullen's hostility toward Luna.//
> 
> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

There was something cathartic about explaining things to Alon. He looked around the world with a kind of wonder that she had lost under Hadriana's gentle ministrations. It had taken surprisingly little convincing for him to believe they were no longer on Earth, but she supposed combat magic, elves, giant swords, and an unrecognizable language were enough proof for him. His reaction to having two moons in the sky was downright hilarious, prompting questions from Varric, and descriptions of Earth's single moon.

The hike back to Kirkwall was taking double the time compared to their earlier headlong rush to the little village. It was not only because of the refugees that now flocked with them back to the Kirkwall Alienage. Luna had forgotten her standing ban on humming on the way to rescue the elves. Hawke insisted on taking advantage of any herbs they spotted on the way back, and the elves foraged for edibles the entire way.

The once rocky path and surrounding cliffs were covered in a sporadic undergrowth of vines, bushes, and other plant-life that had sprung up in her melodious wake. The effect had limited itself to the range, and volume of her voice, making a patchwork of verdant, then barren landscape. The only good news was that it gave her the idea of using it to their advantage in the future.

Not only could she use this ability to impede troop movement , it occurred to her that she had the musical equivalent to Miracle Grow. It was a shame that the ability caused her to tire quickly, but if needs be she could use it to stop outright starvation in Kirkwall. Not that they wanted to advertise that she could do this, but the rumors in elven quarters already claimed she'd cleansed two cities, resulting in perpetually blooming trees in the Alienages.

_Talk about singing for your supper. I hope these rumors don't keep getting bigger, I'm not sure I could handle having to explain to people with dying loved ones that I can't in fact heal the Blight or raise the dead. Of course … according to the rumors Luna is eight feet tall, breathes fire, and is THOUSANDS of years old … so ...  
_

They had stopped near a beach this time and Alon followed her everywhere she went. She'd been taking every opportunity to answer his questions, but they were becoming more personal as the days went on. Alon was actually kind of annoying, but she tried to ignore her growing irritation with the Earthling. He was the only person in all of Thedas that could relate to her, and so she would endure a little irksome behavior.

_Besides, not everyone deals with stress the same way. He apparently becomes ... chatty._

“ **Why are your eyes purple**??” Alon apparently had no qualms about invading personal space, and leaned in close to her face. She grimaced uncomfortably but allowed the intrusion, trying to set the newbie's mind at ease, while simultaneously leaning away from him.

“ **They're indigo. And you're one to talk. I didn't know iris' came in that size … or that shade of blue.”**

 **“WHAT?? My eyes aren't blue they're mud brown!”** Luna raised an eyebrow and indicated a nearby puddle. He flinched in surprise, prying an eye open with his fingers as he gaped at his own reflection. His large eyes were in fact deep, vibrant, pools of cerulean blue highlighted by striations of azure with little whites showing. “ **What's this happy horseshit? I swear ma'am, the last I checked they were brown. Why are they so HUGE???? This is … whacked**.”

Luna snickered at his phrasing. “ **Whacked? Really? And Ma'am again? Seriously?** ”

“ **So … is there a reason the elf with the giant sword keeps giving me the stink eye**?” Alon asked sounding more curious than worried.

Luna glanced at the elf in question and saw that he was indeed glaring at Alon, though he turned away to examine the skyline when he noticed her looking. “ **Oh, that's Fenris. Don't take it personally, he's an equal opportunity hater. He tried to kill me when I first met him, so you're already doing better than I did.** ” She tried to sound nonchalant, but her rising blush gave her away. “ **Yeah, that didn't sound as reassuring as I thought it would huh**.”

Alon grinned saying, “ **Uh huh. Riiiggghhtt. Cuz I was gettin' the impression I was in for a beatin' from the jealous boyfriend. Myyyy mistake**.” He was snickering now, and seemed to be taking perverse joy in standing even closer to her.

“ **It's … it's complicated**.”

“ **What is this? Facebook?** ”

“ **You know you're REALLY nosy right?** ”

“ **You betcha.”**

“ **I think I regret saving you. Can I put you back where I found you?** ” Luna rolled her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a grin.

Alon chuckled as she tried to extricate herself as he noogied her. “ **Sorry no returns. All sales are final. You broke it you bought it!”** He was like the older brother she'd never wanted and she huffed in frustration. It didn't help that he was a full hand taller than she was, and physically stronger without her enhancement.

Alon only laughed harder when he realized that Fenris was looking more angry the more he laughed. She had a feeling the new Earther would have happily poked a crocodile to get a reaction … or perhaps 'wrassled' a bear. Luna figured Fenris was on edge because they weren't speaking in Common, so when they began walking again she started translating bits of conversation back and forth between the party members. It seemed to ease the tension, though she carefully dodged topics about Earth or Fenris' strange behavior. Kirkwall eventually came into view and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to be home.

_ Huh … when did that happen? When did this ... pustule of a city, become my HOME? _

Luna felt a little guilty about it, but she fully intended to dump Alon in someone else's care while they ambushed the slavers at sea then at the Gallows. Aveline seemed like a prime candidate. Frankly she had plans on giving a certain Templar a piece of her mind and didn't have time to babysit. The slavers were obviously not afraid of meeting in plain sight of the Templars. Cullen hadn't noticed the operation going on right under his nose, and she intended to find out why.

Varric was able to use his Guild resources to track a ship registered under the Mac Tir Banner that just happened to be due in port within a week. There were no registered ships from Tevinter due in that same period, but that didn't really mean anything. Slavers would likely be using forged papers. Luna couldn't believe Anora's gall. She may be Queen, but she was unbelievably stupid if she thought that made her untouchable. Even with Luna's loose understanding of Fereldan politics, gleaned mostly from Origins, she knew the importance of public opinion. She understood how important the support of the Nobles could be. After all, morale could be a VERY dangerous thing.

_She is not good at this whole … crime thing. Is it weird that I know you shouldn't leave a fucking paper trail? Crime shows for the win. Eh … good thing I'm honest._

Alon had NOT been happy when she told him her decision to leave him behind. " **I did two tours in Afghanistan before I landed in this shit hole. I can handle it.”**

“ **It's different here** ,” she growled in exasperation. He didn't bat an eye at the sound, having gotten an explanation while on the road. He had actually been a little upset that he didn't seem to show any signs of being anything more than human. Alon complained that he was in a video game with no superpowers. 

“ **I know its different here but I'm a fucking combat Veteran. I can help!** ”

“ **Look I know you were Army, but let me guess, they taught you mostly hand to hand? I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm fresh out of rifles and machine guns.** ” 

“ **Well yeah, but … If you've played one RPG you've played them all right?** ”

Luna scoffed in disbelief. “ **This isn't a game! They have REAL SWORDS Alon. And REAL MAGIC. And so far you haven't … manifested any useful abilities. A boot knife and disarming techniques aren't going to be useful against that. Also you don't speak Common. We wouldn't be able to coordinate on the field, and I won't be able to translate for you.** ” She looked him in the eye saying, “ **At this point you're a liability; not an asset**." 

Alon grunted in acceptance as she made her last point, and she gave herself a mental high-five. She had gotten through to him. He vowed that the next time she went into battle he'd be at her side. Being left behind really seemed to upset him. Luna offered to help him acclimate, and urged him not to give up.

" **This is the last time I stay behind you hear me? You weren't even in the military before you landed here, and you've adapted. Do you know anyone that could train me**?"

“ **Actually … I DO have someone in mind. She's Captain of the Guard, very military … I'm sure you'll get along Great**!”

“ **Yeah but … how are they supposed to train me if I can't speak their language**?"

“ **Well shit ...** ” After pausing for a moment she smirked and said, “ **Just pretend you're a deaf mute and mime everything. At least until you pick up a little basic vocabulary. I'm sure you'll learn 'No' and 'Stop that' pretty quick**."

Alon grinned saying, “ **Actually I'm an optimist! 'Good Boy' will probably be my first words**."

Chuckling in good humor she replied. “ **This is what I get for bringing home strays**.”

* * * * * *

When going through the rest of the slaver's belongings Luna had come across the journal of the Tevinter apprentice who'd attacked her. The mage had apparently kept a meticulous journal of every meeting he had taken part in. You had to love mages for their attention to detail. Apparently he had been kind enough to include a doodled sketch of the person the Captain was supposed to meet at the Gallows. Unfortunately the journal didn't reveal everything they sought. It seemed even the mage didn't know who exactly had hired them, as that information had been need to know. 

The note they had recovered turned out to be a receipt, but it was missing something, the authorizing Seal of the receiving party. In order to obtain the secondary seal they would need to meet a ship in a secluded cove leagues from Kirkwall. According to their information THAT seal would be marked on the document upon delivery of the Slaves, at which time the receipt would be valid and could be exchanged for their payment at the Gallows. She and Merrill had enlisted enough elven fighters to impersonate their 'cargo.' In this role they hoped to seize the ship, and put an end to further 'deliveries.' At least via those particular criminals.

Fenris hadn't spoken more than a few words to her since their twilight dash across Kirkwall. Although he had made his dislike of Alon plain to everyone by the time they arrived home. Hawke had business in Kirkwall that needed his attention and had reluctantly bowed out of the quest. Varric was sticking with Hawke, and Merrill would need to attend to the Alienage as the newly elected _**Hahren**_. She thought Hawke might have need of Fenris' unique skill set, but Luna knew better than to leave him behind for this operation without asking him to join her. 

Judging by the way he had grabbed her by the waist and kissed her senseless when she'd invited him she was pretty sure he'd been grateful. Any opportunity for Fenris to work out his aggression against Tevinter was a win as far as she was concerned. Though she wasn't sure that his bloodthirsty need to murder slavers was something to be applauded. She had debated pointing out that he'd insinuated that they should stay away from each other, but she just didn't have the heart to say it. It had been a very thorough kiss.

Luna knew that there were currently only two options for him as an outlet for his anger. He could either go out on a bloody rampage against their shared enemies, or an erotic rampage in a shared encounter between the sheets. Since they weren't SUPPOSED to be sleeping together … bloody rampage it would be. Though if he kept kissing her like this she wasn't sure she wouldn't risk the unknown danger of his brands reacting to her proximity. He hadn't seemed to have any trouble controlling them while exploring her with his tongue this time.

Alistair paid Turrik a substantial fee for use of his smuggling vessel, and the crotchety dwarf had insisted that he be on the ship when they met the slavers. Turrik informed her that it had been her insistence on not working for slavers that had really convinced him to hire her when they'd first met. Luna had never asked him about it, but Turrik seemed to have a personal grudge against them. It wasn't an all consuming need, as with Fenris, but it was still enough that she marked it.

The 'slaves' were cross loaded via gangplank while Turrik and his mercenaries traded pleasantries with the Captain. Luna was in the rigging, a hood drawn over her head to hide the stripe of silver hair that was growing more famous with every passing day. She wasn't sure where Fenris had secreted himself, but Anders was casually working his way towards the back of the slaving ship. Alistair was likewise hidden somewhere, and she grew more and more impatient. It didn't taken too long for the Tevinter crew to realize their deadly mistake.

At the dwarven smuggler's signal the elves relieved themselves of their shackles, which Luna had personally tampered with before setting sail. The roar of forty or so elves, and the subsequent death rattles of their would be captors filled Luna with exhilaration. She swung onto the enemy ship and landed atop the Captain, her twin daggers puncturing his lungs as she roared in triumph. Fenris seemed to suddenly appear and she blinked in surprise as he phased his armed into the bodyguard beside her. He grinned, gestured at his neck for a moment, and she realized that he'd taken her necklace at some point.

“Hey! You sneaky thief! When did you take that?!” Her tone softened the accusation, making it clear that she found it amusing.

He only laughed, crushed the man's heart, and used his sword to cut down another combatant. Luna found herself smiling in return as she searched for Anders. The Healer was already hard at work, saving the life of an elven volunteer with a serious gut wound. The fight was over and won in less than five minutes, and she almost felt sorry for the bastards. Almost. Fenris returned to her side as she took the completed receipt from her dwarven friend.

“Well that got the blood goin' good and hard,” Turrik groused, waving the piece of paper in her face.

Luna snorted saying, “I don't want to know what makes you hard you cheeky dwarf.” Turrik only waggled his eyebrows at her as the others snickered. Luna snatched the receipt out of the air and nodded in satisfaction. “I think that went even better than I'd planned.” Fenris reached to remove her necklace from himself when she placed her hand over his to stop him. “Keep it.”

_Wow … that sounded … husky? I didn't know my voice could do that._

“I was only borrowing it,” Fenris said defensively.

“And now I'm giving it to you,” Luna used her hand to wrap his over the enchanted jewelry. “Think of it as a gift.” She smiled at him, placed a kiss on his cheek, and left to help attend to the prisoners with a bounce in her step. Turrik guffawed, then joined her, leaving behind the stunned elven warrior.

She found Anders, covered in blood, and reluctantly asked him about their losses. Luna was surprised when he smiled wearily saying, “Actually. We didn't lose anyone.” 

“... Are you sure?” It was too good to be true, and put her on edge, metaphorically looking for the knife at her back.

He chuckled at her then, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, though it still smeared blood across his forehead. “Yes. I'm sure. Fredric almost lost an arm, and poor Kaeval will be abed for at least a week. But those are the worst of it. We caught them completely by surprise, just as you predicted.” Luna wasn't sure she liked the way he'd said that last bit; full of reverence and awe. 

“We … we were lucky, extremely lucky,” she stammered. “This was a gamble, but … I'm glad it worked out.” She handed him a Lyrium potion. “Drink this Anders, you look like you're about to fall over.” Luna punched him playfully on the arm, earning a tired grin from him, and searched out Alistair. 

Interrogating the remaining crew gave them precious little information, but what they did learn eased some of her worries. It would be a fortnight before they were missed, so she thanked the Gods for that small favor. They threw the remaining slavers into their own hold, shackling them in the irons meant for their victims. She was surprised when she returned on deck to the elves cheering her.

It took her a moment to realize they were chanting something other than her name, and stood still, terrified as her mind translated it.

_**Sulahn Vas Revas Sahlin! Sulahn'nehn Vas Revas Sahlin!** _

_Sing Our Freedom is Come. Rejoice Our Freedom is Now._

She didn't try to stop them as she was hefted onto someone's shoulders, and she had no idea what to say. This was all Merrill's and Varric's fault, and she had no idea how to react to her growing following. The non-elven present seemed at a loss, but cheered and waved, caught up in the moment. When she was finally able to escape the joyful elves it was into the solitude of the Captain's Quarters. She felt like she was going to throw up.

_The city elves are learning Elvish … from Merrill? From the new Dalish? I can't lead them to freedom! That's … this is … I'm not … what am I going to DO????_

Once she confirmed that everyone had returned to their duties and the cheering had died away she called her companions in for a strategy session. They avoided the topic of the chanting elves when she refused to translate. Uncomfortable was an understatement, she was surprised she hadn't had a full blown panic attack yet. She didn't leave the cabin until a concerned Alistair coaxed her out with the promise to share some of his cheese.

Feeling silly after Alistair's offer Luna left Turrik to Captain the new ship, and half the elven warriors to man it. She instructed him not to return to Kirkwall until after the meeting at the Gallows had taken place. They had finally confirmed the date of the meeting and had to return immediately. There were plenty of provisions, and the smuggler knew of numerous places to hide a ship along the coast.

No one noticed Alon as he joined the crew headed back to Kirkwall. He wore a hood much like the one Luna had sported during the attack. His clothing was nondescript, and he blended into the background while pretending to perform menial tasks. He watched Luna out of the corner of his eye and frowned in thought. Luna was doing well for herself, was fearless, and though new to it ... an excellent leader. She'd be angry if she found out he'd snuck onto the ship, so it was best she never find out.

* * * * * *

Cullen massaged his temples to combat his growing headache. A little Lyrium would clear it right up, but he needed to be focused to finish his reports. Meredith had become ruthless of late, and he had been ordered to oversee yet another Rite of Tranquility. He wasn't sure what the infraction had been, but he trusted his Knight-Commander's decisions, and knew that it must have warranted it. The Rite had made him uncomfortable as a recruit, but time and experience had taught him that it was a necessary evil. Meredith was strict, but the Mages needed that structure if they were to remain free of possession.

_And yet, I'm having to reassure myself of this fact … again. As if the nightmares aren't enough of a reminder of what they can do._

He had been unable to ignore the bruising on her face and neck, despite being told they were self inflicted. Cullen grimaced, unable to fathom how the Templar had thought it a good lie, but the Mage hadn't even argued with them as most were wont to do. It had been unsettling, as if she were Tranquil already. Without her testimony there was little he could do to punish the Templar, but he would ensure the man was miserable for the foreseeable future.

The man's name was added to the report, along with his recommendation of a harsher schedule, and Lyrium rationing. A year of patrols far from the sequestered mages in the worst weather while yearning for more Lyrium should have the desired effect. He would make sure the imbecile knew exactly why he was being made to suffer. 

Meredith was in charge of Kirkwall in all but name, but he had reassured Guard Captain Aveline over the preceding weeks that it was a temporary measure. Once a Viscount had been named, the Knight-Commander would step aside. Her meeting with Queen Anora on her earlier visit had seemed to mollify the Guard Captain. The Queen had expressed only admiration and commended Meredith on her taming of such an unruly city after the Qunari attack. Cullen was in agreement with the Queen, Kirkwall was a cesspool, and the city was lucky to have the Templars available to provide stability. Aveline hadn't come right out and told him, but he had a feeling the Champion had put her up to asking. 

He was surprised when he received a missive from her that afternoon as they had already had their weekly briefing. What he read there had him reaching for his Lyrium and he hastily left his office to speak with Meredith. She would want to know that there were Tevinter Forces trading slaves on their doorstep. Aveline claimed that the Champion had it under control, but that it was only right that the Templars know of the situation. They would likely be ordered to take care of the slavers, and he couldn't be happier. Considering it involved Tevinter there were likely Apostates among the criminals that needed to be apprehended. 

* * * * * *

Luna's legs burned from sitting in the same position for so long. She and her companions sat in the foggy dusk trying to catch any hint of the contact. Anders had insisted on helping, and there had been a considerable rant from him about the Templars having to be complicit in their dealings. Luna wasn't so sure, and they had found no evidence pointing to it, but there was no convincing the Healer. Still, her friend had been frantic at the idea of her going anywhere near the Gallows without him and she secretly wondered if that weren't the real reason he was going.

_He freaks out on Hawke the same way. Anders REALLY hates Templars. I need to get him away from Kirkwall for a little while before it drives him mad. Maybe I can convince him to go with Alistair to Fereldan for the upcoming Landsmeet._

The 'Gilded Swordfish' had already made port, and the ship was easy enough to spot with all the unnecessary gold filigree. She wasn't surprised to see a Tevinter ship called the 'Domitor.' Leave it to the Tevinter Imperium to name a ship the 'Conqueror.' Luna stayed hidden in an alcove above the Harbor Master's vaults. No one had exited either ships yet, and they'd arrived much later than she had anticipated. This was where port fees, trade taxes, and sailor's personal wealth were stored for safe keeping. They would HAVE to check in with the Harbor Master, or be forced back to the open sea.

The vault wasn't guarded by Templars, yet by being in the Gallows proper, it was by extension protected by the Order. It appeared the Apostate was correct, whether through negligence, or design, the Templars were indeed involved. The extent of that involvement had yet to be uncovered, so she did what she could to calm Anders before he and Justice could begin a rampage. That could only end in tragedy, and she had no interest in losing another friend to death.

More than once she thought she saw a blur of striking blonde hair, flitting amongst the shadows, just out of sight. No matter how quickly she turned, she caught no more than that fleeting glimpse. Alistair had told her that Zevran would be arriving any day to meet her. Maybe the assassin was letting her see him on purpose. If it WAS him, then she was impressed. Even extending her senses she was unable to pinpoint his location, and she wondered if he too had an enchanted artifact. Perhaps it was just pure skill, and absolute control of his emotions.

The Captain of the Tevinter vessel finally emerged, alongside two of his bodyguards, cursing profusely in Tevene. There was still no sign of movement from the Queen's ship, and she supposed that SHE would be required to deliver the coin to said vessel. Luna warily left her secluded hiding spot, landing quietly behind them. Slitting their throats at this juncture would be a simple matter, but that wasn't exactly what she had in mind at the moment. She cleared her throat to grab their attention, and was unsurprised to hear the ring of steel as they unsheathed their weapons.

Luna waved the receipt in front of her, and noticed that the Harbor Master hadn't even looked up from his books. Keeping her hood up, she lowered her voice, adding a gravely quality to it with her ability to growl. “I believe … we have business to conclude.”

“You're not Captain Victus.”

“How observant of you. What gave it away? Was it the breasts? Victus is dead. Stupid Blighter got himself killed in the last raid. I've delivered the slaves. Is collecting my well earned coin going to be a problem?” Luna dropped her voice another register, trying to sound angrier than she actually was. It seemed to startle the Vint, but he recovered quickly, shaking his head.

“Business is business. If you've proof of delivery, I believe we can conclude this transaction.” He gestured towards the money tables and she contemplated her options.

She nodded then, her blood thrumming with anticipation. The Harbor Master watched them, with cold, calculating eyes. Here was the missing link. He hadn't batted an eye as she deliberately named their illicit goods. Her hands itched to grab her weapons, but she knew she needed him to dig himself deeper. Aveline waited with the others, ready to arrest these men as soon as they'd incriminated themselves sufficiently. She could only imagine how Fenris must feel, watching quietly from above, gearing up to slaughter the men she was happily leading towards their doom.

The Tevinter Captain relaxed as they approached the Harbor Master. “You could have saved me the trouble by simply coming aboard. I could have sent my second out here. Kirkwall is dreadful this time of night.”

“And risk pissing off royalty with my lowborn status? Besides, I like the fog. It does wonders for my skin.” He eyed her facial scar with a sneer and she couldn't help but feel sullied.

“I am no royal.”

“Aren't all Vints royal bastards of some kind,” she asked with a sneer of her own. “Don't play coy. I know the Fereldan vessel is owned by a Queen. I'll be keeping my head thanks.”

“Let's see it then.” The Harbor Master held out his hand, waiting for her to place the paper into his palm. He was clearly impatient, though they all seemed to buy her mercenary attitude without question. How long had they been doing this that they were so complacent; that they felt no fear of being caught? She had no intention of making this easy for the corrupt official.

“I'd like to confirm the amount first if you don't mind. Try to cheat me and I'll gut you where you stand. Victus had a standing arrangement, and I want the same."

The Harbor Master snorted, but she noticed that he counted out several more stacks of coin, and pushed them into a pouch. “That's four thousand Sovereigns, and not a copper more.”

“Just what do you think you are DOING?” Luna froze at the sound of the angry Fereldan voice. She whirled around to see Knight-Captain Cullen stepping into the light, several very angry Templars standing at his back. He narrowed his gaze upon seeing Luna, dread filled her as she saw recognition in his face. “How DARE you. You are all to come with me peaceably. Slavery is not only unlawful, it is a sin against the Maker.”

“You can TRY FERELDAN DOG," a bodyguard yelled.

Luna realized with a groan that one of the bodyguards was an Apostate. He threw fire at the Templars and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she dodged the first Templar blade.

She wasn't sure who was calling her name, but she eagerly watched Aveline and her men charging into the fray. The resulting chaos did not help in her endevor to clear up the misunderstanding of Luna's role. Despite the fact that she wasn't fighting back, several Templars continued to hound her, intent on making an example of the slavers. She normally found the attitude commendable … but she wasn't a true slaver and she didn't want to die because of it.

Someone yelled a warning to her and she glimpsed the incoming blade intended for her head with bemusement. Luna had no choice, she cast **Accelerate** , and flung herself towards the Knight-Captain. He was at first surprised, then livid, to find her standing beside him placidly as Aveline tried to explain the situation. His reaction to her abilities was immediate, and she was thankful that she still hadn't managed to pierce the Veil.

She felt the **Silence** wash over her and noted with amusement that even the non-mages paused on their feet for a moment. Despite what their religion claimed, EVERY Thedosian, barring dwarves, had a connection to the Fade, in order to dream. The Apostate was affected by it the most, of course, collapsing to his feet with a scream as his magic was stripped away. Anders was nowhere in view, and she hoped that he hadn't fallen off a roof. Cullen stared at her as she stood, unaffected, still not having drawn her weapons. Something tickles the edge of her thoughts as the wave passed, familiar ... dangerous. 

“Apologies Knight-Captain. I'm not a Mage as you can see. I have no connection to the Fade, therefore, I cannot be affected by your abilities.” The guards shackled the criminals that still lived and she took the opportunity to antagonize Cullen. The Templars, Apostate in tow, reformed behind Cullen, the jurisdiction of the Guard taking precedence.

The confusion on his face was priceless. “How … that's not possible!”

Luna laughed then, loud, and hard her blood racing. “Oh, Cullen Stanton Rutherford.” He glowered at her familiarity but she just couldn't help herself, he had this coming. “Are all Templars this naive? What a good little mongrel you are, begging happily from your leash.” This caused several guards to gasp and the Templars to glare at her. Someone was hurling insults before Aveline and Cullen got them under control. “That's right Captain, keep your dogs in check. Tell me, did you learn about the slavers only today, because I find it awfully convenient that you'd almost ruin our chances at finally catching a Tyrant red handed.”

Aveline grabbed her by the ear and she let our a fox like yelp of pain as she was dragged bodily away from the Templars and shoved towards Hawke. “When will you learn to keep your mouth SHUT Luna,” the Guardswoman asked in exasperation. Fenris gave her a worried glance as he took up a defensive position, but she was too geared up to notice the shared concern between her friends. Luna didn't want to be quiet, her blood was pumping, the thrill of combat still racing through her veins. Cullen was posturing, and she wanted him taken down a peg, her instincts demanded it.

“A Tyrant you say? Who might you be referring to?” His posture was all business again, ignoring her mockery, but his tone of voice made it clear Cullen was still upset.

Rubbing her abused ear she smirked at him and kept talking, despite the warning glances from Hawke. “There are at least two that come to my mind. Ironic that they both happen to be women. But let's leave Meredith for another day. I'm referring to the illegitimate Queen of Fereldan of course. You didn't think this was just about a single gang of Slavers did you?” She could see Cullen getting angrier, and bit Hawke's hand when he attempted to cover her mouth in an attempt to silence her. She ignored the tang of his blood in her mouth, focused solely on Cullen's discomfort.

“Enough! We still have a Fereldan ship, and crew to apprehend,” Aveline said impatiently. Luna made to go with the Guardswoman but she made it clear that her help wasn't needed. Alistair gripped her by the shoulder firmly, and told the Captain that he would see to her well being … personally.

“See that you do. You may not be an Apostate, but you are hiding something. This isn't over … LUNA.” Cullen growled, before joining the guards in their attack against the Fereldan ship.

Alistair shook her by the shoulders as the soldiers marched out of sight with Hawke close behind. “What were you THINKING woman?!”

Anders grabbed her by the arm as he glowered at her. “We didn't save your life for you to throw it away at every opportunity! I knew you coming to the Gallows was a wretched idea!”

Wrenching away from the Wardens grasp Luna growled at them both, baring her teeth and claws in a threatening gesture. Fenris was a comforting presence at her side, but she sensed that he was tense about something. Didn't they know who she was? Hadn't they considered the things she could do? What were these tainted fools thinking in challenging her? The Blight clung to their auras like a second rotting layer of filth. How had she never sensed it before, this sickening growth that encased them like a parasite.  Their human auras were nauseating, flashing with their uncontrolled emotions.

Her aggression did not have the intended effect, instead of growing angry, they both seemed concerned. Anders reached for her with a sigh saying, “Luna please … Come back to … to us.” Fenris bristled at the mage, and laid a hand against her back. He was jealous. Good. That was as it should be. The elf was hers, and this puny Mage was no match for them. Fenris' magic reached for her, soothing her nerves as it absorbed and settled within her, causing her to shiver.

She was startled when the energy of the brands began to clear the rage from her mind. Luna saw that Alistair appeared just as distraught as the Mage; tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. “You are losing yourself …” He coughed and held a hand out to her, beckoning, and she stared at it in horror as her mind cleared. “You're better than this.” She stumbled back as though he'd slapped her; the words she'd used to help him echoed back to her.

Fenris appeared aloof as always, but when she met his eyes she saw the worry there, and froze. He backed away from her, not in fear, but in growing agitation. “You may walk free, but your soul is still caged,” he said accusingly. 

Luna didn't say anything. She couldn't. She ran.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elvish)  
>  Hahren : **elder**  
> 
> 
> Sulahn Vas Revas Sahlin! Sulahn'nehn Vas Revas Sahlin! :  
>  **Sing Our Freedom is Come. Rejoice Our Freedom is Now.**  
> 
> 
> ~Points to the first person who figures out why Luna's becoming unhinged~


	35. SELAH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

She wasn't sure where she was going. The docks were currently off limits, and the Gallows was a fortress/prison. Getting away from them was the only thing that mattered to her. She found herself in the main courtyard, shaking, and gasping for breath. The run hadn't made her tired, so at first she couldn't understand why her breaths were becoming more shallow. It came to her in a flash as she began to hyperventilate that she was having a full blown panic attack. Luna gripped her own arms tightly, clinging to herself in desperation as she tried to wrestle her emotions back under control.

That's not how panic works though. Logic could scream at her all it wanted, but panic didn't care. It only knew that something was wrong, so wrong that it couldn't be fixed. The idea that something cannot be fixed, is terrifying. Being terrified, only feeds into the panic, and as your breathing grows shallow, so too does the fear increase. The edge of her vision was going black, and she knew that if the others did not find her quickly, the Templar guards would likely take her into custody on their return. She could already hear a knight guard yelling across the courtyard, asking who she was, and what she was doing there this time of night.

Luna was startled when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder and took a deep choking breath. Sandal stood staring at her with his blank expression, and she was puzzled. The panic began to fade, heart still hammering in her ears, and gave way instead to curiosity. “Um … hello there. How … where did you come from?” He smiled at her, eyes still strangely unfocused, and helped her to stand. She was grateful as her breathing steadied. The energies around him felt like a still pond, while her own felt like a raging storm.

“Hello. Follow me.” Sandal reached for her hand and held it in his vice like grip, tugging her along behind him effortlessly. It would appear she really didn't have much choice in the matter. The Templar was ordering them to halt, but Sandal was surprisingly quick. He led her to what appeared to be a dead end but she kept silent, trusting the dwarf wouldn't do anything to harm her. In hindsight that had probably been a bad idea, but she liked Sandal, even with his ominous behavior in the games.

She was able to keep herself from jumping when he pressed an ornate carving along the wall and it slid aside to reveal a hidden passage. “A secret door in the Gallows. Of COURSE Sandal knows about a secret door,” she muttered. Oddly enough, the idea of exploring the unknown calmed her further, and she found her breathing had become almost normal. Sandal tugged her ahead and the door scraped closed behind them. Darkness swallowed the tunnel, but Sandal produced a rune in his hand almost as quickly, bathing them in a soft green glow.

“Where are you taking me Sandal?” Their footsteps and voices echoed off the close stone walls, in a way that reminded her of audio effects in Earth's modern electronica. The reverberation was close, like listening to something down a long pipe. She wondered what it would sound like to sing in a place like this.

“Luna needs to breathe. I must keep the moons safe. When they collide all of Thedas will tremble.”

Luna didn't like the sound of that. Moons? He couldn't mean Thedas' moons … could he? Then again, he refered to her as the moon, could he be referencing another Earther? She wracked her brain, there was something she was missing, just at the edge of her thoughts. He stopped just as she saw a soft white glow at the end of the tunnel and faced her, releasing her hand. She gasped as she realized where the glow was coming from.

“Eluvian ...” she whispered in reverence. One of the ancient mirrors of _**Elvhenan**_ stood before her, untouched by the ravages of time, it was in perfect working order, the portal having already been activated. The feel of the mana, radiating from the mirror, against her skin was comforting, almost like sunlight. It was carved out of some sort of marble, and though the shape was familiar, she had never seen an Eluvian quite like it. Carved into the marble surface was Elvish script that she longed to read; along with intricately sculpted plants and animals. None of them were familiar. Merrill would probably give anything to see this. She stepped forward involuntarily, her hand reaching for the shining surface.

“One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part, and the skies will open wide,” Sandal intoned, almost like he had rehearsed it, waiting for her reaction.

She whirled around to look at Sandal as he recited the familiar dialogue, and finished it for him. “When he rises … everyone will see.” The dwarf nodded at her enthusiastically.

“You shine in the dark … like a beacon.”

She looked him in the eyes, something she rarely did as it unnerved her. He didn't seem to quite meet her gaze, as though he looked through her. He was impossible to read, not only because he was a dwarf, but he had no recognizable body language, or emotional tells. She wondered, not for the first time, if it was an act.

A question burned in her mind, one that had bothered her since playing Dragon Age II. She wasn't sure how much the savant knew, but she had the distinct impression he knew quite a bit more than his behavior implied. There was little danger in trying to confirm his rambling. Luna was the only one that seemed to take the time to understand the dwarf. “Which do you mean Sandal? Are you speaking of Corypheus? Or the Dread Wolf?”

“Yes.”

She screamed when he suddenly shoved her through the mirror without warning.

* * * * * *

Hawke, Anders, and Alistair had been awake all night searching for Luna, with no sign of the frustrating woman. In fact they had spent the last several days in fruitless search of her. They had returned to the mansion Fenris was squatting in and were currently watching him destroy things in the open space he'd converted into his training yard. Fenris growled in frustration as he swung at a dummy hard enough that it lost a 'limb.' It was not a clean cut, instead the wooden beam almost shattered, splinters flying through the air along with a rain of straw. 

Alistair sighed loudly, and he tried to ignore the would be King. “This isn't helping Fenris.”

The elf rounded on the ex-Templar with a snarl yelling, “She would not simply vanish! We were standing in a Templar stronghold, with only one possible exit.” He hit the dummy again, but his heart wasn't in it and he sat on the nearby bench. “I cannot believe I'm even entertaining the idea but … perhaps the Abomination is correct. Perhaps the Templars have taken her.” He found himself choking on the thought as he gripped his sword tighter.

Alistair shook his head. “I've already checked with Cullen, he claims they don't have her.”

“And you believe him,” Anders challenged, his voice steely. “A former Templar confiding in the Knight-Captain. How convenient.”

Alistair took a threatening step towards his fellow Warden. “Luna is my FRIEND. Just what are you implying??”

Hawke held up a hand to forestall Alistair's anger and gave Anders an appraising glance. “Anders. I know you don't want to hear it, but I believe him. The Knight-Captain has dealt with us honorably in the past. We have no reason to doubt him.”

Anders glared, nearly shouting, “Don't we??? Have you heard nothing I've been saying for the last couple of years? It's all they do isn't it. They take, and take, and take. Haven't you heard anything I've been telling you about the 'Tranquil Solution!' First Karl and now Luna. She should never have been anywhere near those monsters!”

Fenris began to clean his blade, examining it for weaknesses. “Calm yourself Abomination. This will not locate her any faster.” Truthfully Fenris was having to quash the urge to simply storm into the Templar stronghold demanding answers. He clenched his jaw, willing the unfamiliar ache in his chest to go away. He had failed her again. His words had been born of concern, but they had been laced with anger. He felt responsible for her disappearance.

_This rage, it festers, poisoning everything I touch._

Anders turned his growing fury towards Fenris now, stating, “So this is how you truly feel about her? Why am I not surprised. You took advantage of her. She had just been TORTURED, for weeks. You used her like some cheap whore, and now ...” Everyone looked at Fenris in surprise at the Apostate's hurled accusations.

Fenris rose to his feet, his brands glowing as he approached the possessed Healer, arm lit up in preparation to seize the man's heart. Alistair grabbed him by the arm, bringing Fenris to his senses with the lancing pain of his markings. He freed himself, controlled, but no less angry. “Do not PRESUME to know what is between us. Luna is NO WHORE. Name her so again and I will END you MAGE!”

Hawke stood in front of Anders, shielding his lover with a barrier as he glared at them both. “ENOUGH! You are both idiots. We need to be THINKING, not bickering amongst ourselves.”

Alistair was still gaping at Fenris. “You and Luna … but. Um, I thought you hated each other.”

“You're certainly at each other's throats often enough.” Hawke trailed off, contemplating something.

Fenris slammed his fist against the bench as he returned to it. “I DO NOT HATE her. We have differences of opinion.” 

Hawke huffed, saying, “That's putting it rather mildly don't you think? I've stopped more than a few of your fights Fenris. I'm surprised you haven't drawn blood yet.”

Fenris closed his eyes, turning away to hide the guilt that ate at him. He changed the subject away from his love life, and back to the problem at hand. “Perhaps there was magic at work? Did you sense anything when she … vanished?”

“I'm not sure. Anders … did you feel anything strange the night she disappeared?”

“You mean other than the gut wrenching pain of having my magic stripped? No I was rather busy trying to simply stand,” Anders said, voice dripping with venom.

_I hadn't even realized he'd been hit by the Templars. That's … impressive. I will have to watch the Abomination more closely._

Fenris glanced between the two men. There was growing animosity there, and he was surprised by it. He had thought they had finally come to a mutual understanding. They were normally endearing towards one another; nauseatingly so. He wasn't sure what a relationship was supposed to truly look like however, so he may have been misinterpreting it. 

His only real example had been Danarius, and the relationship between a Bloodmage and his slaves was not applicable. Fenris had no memory of his own family. No memory beyond the pain of receiving his marks. Luna knew more about him than she had revealed, and he wondered if he was only upset at the loss of that potential knowledge.

_That would make it easier wouldn't it. If I only wanted what she knew, I wouldn't lie awake at night trying not to think of her hair … her smile ... the way her brow crinkles when she's found a problem she can't immediately solve. I wouldn't relive the feel of her lips as they move against mine in the dark._ _**Kaffas.** _

He was surprised when Alistair took a seat beside him. It still shocked him when people chose to be near him. As a slave, he had been beneath the regard of those of higher station, despite his value as a weapon. The nature of his creation had kept other slaves from approaching him for more than was required.

The man looked as exhausted as Fenris felt. “Has anyone tried explaining this to her countryman?” The Warden asked as he began peeling off parts of his armor.

Anders was the one to finally break the oppressive silence. “Aveline and I have attempted to reassure him. Without knowing more of their language there is only so much we can convey while gesticulating and speaking slowly.” He spoke with exaggerated emphasis, mimicking how they might speak to Alon. 

Everyone scanned their surroundings when they heard the sound of chuckling coming from somewhere above them. “Women. This Luna must be marvelous, no?” A blonde elf dropped in front of them, his head tilted to the side with a smirk. His accent marked him as Antivan, and Alistair smiled in relief.

“Zevran! I didn't realize you had arrived.” Everyone calmed at the obvious recognition of the intruder, save Fenris who kept his hand firmly on the hilt of his blade.

“I have been shadowing you for some time. I was surprised to get your message Alistair. Have you reconsidered my … offer?” Zevran winked at the Warden and Fenris was not surprised to see Alistair's rising blush. The elf was making the sexual nature of his comment fairly obvious.

“I didn't realize you were acquainted with … assassins.” Fenris said suspiciously as he took in his appearance. His body language was too assured, and the way he carried himself was dangerous.

“Ah, be calm my friends. FORMER assassin as it were. Thanks to Alistair and the 'Hero of Fereldan.” He bit out the title as if it left a sour taste in his mouth. “I came to inform you that I witnessed your lovely companion retreating with a certain dwarf.”

Once everyone had quieted down again Zevran continued saying, “We were acquainted with him during the Blight, no? A certain, Lyrium addled, adoptive son.”

“When,” Fenris asked impatiently. There was no time for the elf's flowery manner of speech.

“On the very night she ran from all of you. What did you say to chase away such a beauty?”

Alistair beat Fenris to an angry outburst. “And you're telling us only NOW? It's been days!”

“I would have been here sooner, but I have my own troubles as you know. Certain members of the Crows have been … rather persistent.” It was when the assassin winced that they all noticed that he was in fact gravely wounded. He staggered to another bench and sat down with no pretense of grace. “Perhaps you can help me to finally be rid of them. If I survive the day, I shall offer you my, humble, services.” Zevran sounded anything but humble, and Fenris resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Anders immediately ran to his side and he accepted healing eagerly.

“Sandal has gone missing as well,” Hawke said, finally making the connection. “I didn't think anything of it. Bodahn is beside himself, I've asked Orana to distract him with that Lute of hers.”

Zevran's demeanor darkened as he met Hawke's gaze, stating, “The dwarf is more than he appears I feel, but I believe he saved Luna's life.” He didn't even flinch as Anders began to clean the serious wound near his ribs. “They were too quick for me follow, but they entered an escape tunnel, very handy, escape tunnels. I could not locate the mechanism to open it, which is … unheard of for me actually. It was then that I was ambushed. I am sorry I could not find you sooner Alistair.”

The ex-Templar shook his head, running his fingers through his short hair. “No. Thank you Zevran. At least we know not to storm the Gallows.” Silence filled the courtyard as Zevran's wounds were mended. Fenris resumed caring for his weapon, trying to ignore the growing agitation, and anger. Luna was infuriating, if she had not been captured, why had she not returned. They had not spoken of it, but he had thought …

_What did I think? That she might feel something for me? I have given her nothing._

_* * * * * *_

Alistair had proven more than once that he should stay far away from the preparation of food unless it was absolutely necessary. Luna's absence necessitated eating away from home more often. It didn't feel right to ask Merrill to take up the cooking, especially when she was more and more busy with the running of the Alienage. He'd taken to eating at the Hanged Man with Varric whenever possible, as long as you stayed away from the nug steaks, the food was more than passable. It helped that they ate in the privacy of his rooms as opposed to the common area. Varric handed him Teagan's letter with little consideration as he found a seat across from the dwarf.

He ignored the pang of loss when he thought of Luna's absence. The woman had been missing for well over three months. She had become such a part of his life before the mess of Fenris' past had snatched her away from them. He couldn't imagine what the elf must be feeling, hiding in that mansion of his, patrolling every night for some sign of her return. Even after being freed from Hadriana's prison, it had seemed as though a part of her were missing. They did search for her, but life continued its steady march, and their plans would halt for no one. He didn't blame the ex-slave for her disappearance, even the latest one. They had all assumed that she was healing, ignoring the evidence of their eyes in favor of hope.

_Was I too caught up with all we'd accomplished without her? We just wanted her to be safe, after everything she'd been through. The harder we tried, the more she fought it. How do you help someone that doesn't want to be helped?_

The confrontation with Fenris' former Master had done little to alleviate the elf's brooding. The elven warrior had been adamant that the Magister had something to do with Luna's disappearance, and had convinced his sister to meet them at the Hanged Man. They had all known that it was a trap. However what they had learned after the death of the Magister troubled him. 

Leto … or so his sister had named him, along with the revelation that he had competed for the HONOR of receiving his markings. She had sold him out for the opportunity to become a Magister herself, and had thrown away the gift of Freedom that Leto had dearly bought with his own. Alistair hadn't lifted a finger to stop the elf from executing the woman, and he couldn't say that it felt like a mistake.

Alistair continued to call him Fenris, and the elf seemed to appreciate it. Strange, considering it was a name given to him by the Magister, but Alistair could understand finding comfort in familiarity. He empathized with Fenris, and couldn't help but drawing parallels in their experiences. How long had it been since he had been confronted with the reality of meeting Goldanna? The gold digging shrew had shattered his dreams of finding his true family. True it had been the naive daydreams of a starving boy who spent his nights in the Mabari kennels, but it still left him feeling … empty. 

It had been a pivotal moment in his life, refusing to give the woman a single copper as he was yelled at by his fellow Warden for being so easily manipulated. Morrigan's acidic jibes had been unbearable that day, and he had resolved that he simply no longer cared what the others thought of him. Zevran, a man he'd once advised executing, had been the only companion to offer any support. Those were the weeks in which their friendship had been truly forged.

Alon's training was coming along quickly. Luna's disappearance seemed to push her countryman to greater effort than he'd seen anyone exert. His progress with their language was slow, painfully so, but there WAS progress. His skill with a blade on the other hand, grew by leaps and bounds. He had never seen anyone take to combat so intuitively. Showing a stance once or twice, seemed to be more than sufficient before the man took to it like second nature. In fact it was baffling that someone could learn combat so quickly, yet have so much difficulty learning their language. At times he felt Alon was being intentionally obtuse. Luna had mentioned that he had been a part of her country's military, perhaps that explained it.

The man was angry. Not that Alistair blamed him. The inability to communicate was frustrating, and when they'd finally told him that Luna was missing he'd spent the next week breaking things at every opportunity. Alistair had taken to bringing him along when he knew they would encounter trouble. The strange man grew calmer in the ensuing weeks.

He sighed and began to read the letter in the hopes that it might alleviate the headache that had taken up permanent residence in his skull. As the letter was encoded, there was little hope of that. With another sigh he retrieved his copy of 'Hard in Hightown' and set about painstaking deciphering it. 

_Nephew,_

_The Landsmeet has been called. Anora is over confident, as was to be expected. We have so far managed to keep the extent of our evidence hidden. She has however threatened to have you executed should you be captured within Fereldan's borders._

_I would suggest you avoid that; being captured I mean. You're presence at the Landsmeet is paramount, as during the Blight. She may be an overdressed Tyrant, but she is hardly naive enough to believe we have called such a meeting because of our confidence in the head that wears the Crown._

_The Teyrn of Highever has agreed to house you until then. You remember the Couslands? I will write further of these details shortly. This letter is highly treasonous, so I would suggest you burn it. I must say I am impressed with the acumen you've shown in subterfuge of late. Eamon was a fool not to recognize your potential as more than a puppet. Regards to your lady friend._

_Your Uncle._

_P.S. I'm increasing security at the Manor. Again. How these correspondence appear in my private study is a mystery that continues to plague my Guards._

Alistair burned the missive using the candle on the table immediately. Varric said nothing at first; simply watching the parchment as it was consumed to ash. “So … when are you leaving?”

Alistair smirked at his dwarven friend. “Nothing gets by you does it.”

“I'd offer to go with you … but ...”

“No need to explain Varric. It's possible that I'm walking straight to my death. You've done more than I could have asked of you.”

“You didn't ask me. Luna did.” Varric turned away from him, chugging his ale in a blatant attempt to hide the emotions that stirred there. He may have been famous for his extravagant lies, but Alistair had grown to know him over the last year. Luna's disappearance was eating at them all.

_Maker keep you safe my lady … Wherever you are. Now if I can only convince Zevran not to assassinate Anora before I'm declared King._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elvish)  
>  Elvhenan : **Ancient Elven civilization before the arrival of Humans in Thedas. Literal - The place of our People.**
> 
> (Tevene)  
>  Kaffas : **Shit**


	36. MONTAGE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hangs head in shame* First I would like to apologize for skipping a week.  
> Secondly ... I am completely shocked by the response I've gotten to this story so far, and can't thank all my readers enough!
> 
> Over 250 Kudos, 90 subscriptions, and over 4000 hits!??!??!?  
> I Think my brain just imploded.
> 
> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Luna groaned as she slowly moved her aching arms to wipe the drool from her dirt encrusted face. Her cheek slowly peeled away from a cold stone surface, and she cursed as every joint seemed to creak at the careful movement. To say that Luna was upset would have been accurate, if grossly understated. She probably should have expected something like this. Luna had noticed her inability to accurately predict events in her own life lately, and it was pissing her off. Sandal wasn't exactly a benign character. She should have known better.

Luna opened her eyes fully expecting to see the Crossroads, the construct between **_Eluvians_** , created by the _**Elvhen**_. Instead she gaped in astonishment as she took in what appeared to be … absolutely nothing. It was dark. Far too dark for her to see anything by normal means. Wherever she had landed in an crumpled heap, was definitely long abandoned. The stale air was thick with the dust that she had disturbed. Luckily she had something in reserve for just such an occasion.

She hadn't considered casting **Sight** since the fateful ride to Amaranthine. Luna could still remember the fear of being discovered as she clung for dear life to Geoffery's saddle. She still preferred walking on her own two feet. There was just something unnerving about being carted around on something with a mind of its own.

“What the FUCK Sandal,” she muttered as the spell took effect, giving her a shimmering, black and white view of the surroundings. Carved marble pilars stood along what seemed like an entrance hall of sorts. It was clearly _**Elvhen**_ , the decorated walls iridescent under her enhanced vision. The effect of the spell reminded her of old horror movies she'd seen as a child … still it was beautiful. She would have liked to be able to say that she recognized the patterns, but that would have been a lie. Luna couldn't recall having seen this specific imagery before. 

Luna waited to see if the dwarf would be joining her, but after what felt like about an hour had passed, he still had not arrived behind her. “Wonderful. He's thrown me into a tomb and left me to rot.” Luna cautiously strode in the only direction available to her. The Eluvian had failed to give up any secrets as she waited, and without a key, she doubted she could activate it anyway. 

She was surprised to find a large mosaic covered wall, vaguely in the shape of a door. Similar structures had been present in Trespasser. The question was … could she activate the door, without something like the Inquisitor's mark. The scarier question, was how much air she had left in this obviously sealed structure. 

“Well I don't really have a choice but to try do I? It's that, or stay in the dark until I go mad, or die of starvation, or suffocate … or hell, why not all three? Yeah, talking to myself isn't giving me any points against the madness issue ...” She spent a good deal of time simply studying the thing. Unable to discern any clues, she finally just threw mana in its direction. She was surprised when she felt her energies begin to slide into place along hidden pathways in the stone, and smiled when she realized … it was a logic puzzle. 

_Oh my Gods. Are you shitting me? It's a mini game?!_

Luna laughed into the darkness, the close stone walls throwing her voice back at her strangely, further creating a feeling of confinement. Several grueling minutes of tinkering with the door, left her with a headache, but she gave out a triumphant 'whoop' as the door slowly disintegrated before her. She quickly dropped the vision spell when she was nearly blinded by the sunlight, just on the other side. 

Walking up several steps she paused to take in the area. This was definitely more familiar. It was a largely open space blanketed in grass, vines, and other plant-life. Trees surrounded the crumbling ruins, and there was a large stone altar to one side. Greenery was everywhere, and she took deep breaths of the floral scented air. She hadn't realized just how stifled she had been underground. 

Carefully she strode toward the altar, glancing at the statuary that tugged at her memory. “The Altar of Mythal ...” she intoned reverently. She was startled by the gravely voice of a woman standing directly behind her, and was gratified that she at least didn't scream bloody murder. Luna gaped at the woman clad in studded red leather in astonishment. Her trademark white hair was elegantly worked into the shape of dragon's horns. The old woman appraised her imperiously. “ _ **Asha'bellenar**_?!” Luna coughed, not having meant to simply blurt that out. “I mean … ummm … greetings ... Flemeth.” 

_Oh yes. Masterful cover there. Your eloquence knows no bounds. She IS MYTHAL remember?????_

“Where am I?” Luna tried to appear unsure about the crumbling Temple, but Flemeth was no fool. 

“The time for games is long passed girl. The how still eludes me, but you are … familiar.” 

That brought Luna up short. Flemeth found her … familiar? “Well, I can honestly say I've never met you before.” 

“Yet you recognized me on sight. Curious that I sense no lie in you. Still …” 

“Why am I here?” 

“You asked for an audience I believe. Here it is.” 

“You diverted an _**Eluvian**_?!” 

“Clever as well as pretty. Will wonders never cease.” 

Luna narrowed her gaze at the ancient woman. “You claim you want no more games, yet you speak in riddles. Let's cut to the chase, shall we Mythal?” 

Flemeth threw back her head and gave a hearty laugh, almost like a throaty cackle. “And she speaks her mind. A true miracle in this Age. Your message intrigued me. I took the best opportunity to fetch you. Your knowledge however, is dangerous. How came you by it I wonder?” 

“I'm not a creature of Thedas.  Suffice it to say that I am from beyond. Originally I'd intended to ask your help in returning to my own realm.  That is no longer an option.” 

“Yes, I've heard tell of this 'Beyonder.' And now I suppose I've met her. They whisper your title like a prayer.” 

“I'm not a God in search of worship. I'm simply a lost traveler.” 

“Aren't we all.” Flemeth clasped her hands behind her back, taking a stance that reminded her greatly of Solas. She closed her eyes, and Luna felt the woman's aura as it reached for her, searching for something. Luna was surprised by the warmth now in Flemeth's tone as she spoke. “It has been … a long time … _**Sulahn'Nan**_.” The last word was spoken more like a command or declaration of intent. All trace of affection vanished as quickly as Luna thought she'd glimpsed it, and she wasn't even sure it had been there at all. 

“What is that supposed to mean? I don't understand that word.” 

“Few still do. You will stay here for the time being. We have much to discuss.” 

Flemeth strode away in a swirl of leather and ancient magics, transforming into a dragon before her eyes, even as Luna tried to explain that her companions needed her. 

Luna realized that she had no idea where she was, and despite attempts to leave the area, she could find no exit. Morrigan's mother had apparently seen fit to erect an unfamiliar form of barrier, one she couldn't properly absorb. 

A meal mysteriously appeared in the clearing later that evening, and she grudgingly ate the offering of fruit and vegetables. Spring water flowed freely nearby and so her basic needs were met. A search for whomever had delivered the meal proved fruitless, and she impatiently awaited their next conversation. 

* * * * * *

She argued with her many times over the coming days but Flemeth refused to allow her to leave. “It is not yet time,” she would say. Luna was getting very tired of that answer, and continued to fiddle with the _**Eluvian**_ , hoping for a way. There didn't seem to be any servants, or any other living creatures around the Temple, though food continue to appear like clockwork, once a day. She slept on the ground most nights and it was surprisingly restful, but had started to weave a hammock. Sleeping in a tree branch was out of the question, she'd tried, and had fallen flat on her face the first night. She didn't want to tie herself into the tree. 

Flemeth did not give many more clues after that first encounter. It was obvious that she knew more about Luna's predicament than she was letting on, but also made it clear that Luna could not be sent home. Not that Luna had any real interest in leaving anymore. She still held onto the hope that she might be able to find Flynn in all this mess. Instead Flemeth set about teaching Luna to control her many abilities, some of which she hadn't even known that she possessed. It was like having her very own sadistic *Yoda. 

“Currently you bear four tethers. Each links you to a source of power. Each of those sources grants you abilities. Only through understanding the nature of the tethers, and to what they connect you, will you be able to wield all that you have.” 

_Tethers? The tails? So … she can sense them, but not see them. Interesting. Okay. They each link me to a God. So … I'm connected to Monkey, Teshub, Thoth, and Inanna. Staff fighting, check. Lightning, check. Magic absorption, check. Wait … I still don't know what I gained from Helena._

Flemeth smirked at her. No doubt Luna was gaping like a landed fish. “Ah. Understanding dawns. But first, we must focus on what you already know.” 

By the end of the first week Luna had never been so mentally spent in her life. Flemeth made her revisit every spell she had ever cast. The first she was tasked with applying was her **Memory Charm** , which still gave her headaches to use even after exhaustive practice. She never depleted herself. Instead Flemeth provided her with a steady supply via her link to the Fade. The first time she'd thrown an lightning bolt and ignited a tree on fire had been both exhilarating and eye opening. 

Luna pestered her with endless questions about Thedosian magics, most of which were ignored. Flemeth did explain much of how their magics worked, but it was doled out at the old woman's convenience. She was steadily growing to dislike the ancient _**Elvhen**_ Goddess. Once they'd exhausted her Sigils they focused on her link to the 'Chant' as Flemeth insisted on calling it. Luna was pretty sure she only called it that to annoy her.  Perhaps she found it amusing to associate Luna with something she obviously loathed.  


“Magic is a precision tool girl! Not a bludgeoning weapon! You can wield it like a woodman's ax, but you must learn to apply it like an assassin's blade. Now again, sing.” Luna decided to be cheeky, and chose the Disney song [**My Own Home**](https://open.spotify.com/track/2geMgD0SjUMcnnc0G0ftpg). A not so subtle hint that Luna would prefer to be elsewhere.  It reminded Luna of a lullaby and of a time when her childhood dreams had been simpler. The grass and plants around her began to react, slowly creeping up the pillars, sprouting buds, and growing greener. It was as before, slowly inching its growth.  It took a great amount of effort and sweat began to bead from her forehead. She tried to contain her frustration when Flemeth interrupted when she hadn't gotten much farther than humming the intro.

“Enough. Hold out your hand.” Luna did as she was instructed, and gaped when Flemeth conjured a seed there with a casual gesture.  She tried to hold her hand steady, the cost of the spell making her feel weak.  


“Wha...” 

“Now. Sing ... not to the world at large, but only to the seed. Direct your will.” Luna took a deep breath, but before she could begin she was interrupted again. Huffing in annoyance she waited for the infuriating _**Evanuris**_ to finish speaking. “No. Sing … 'Garden of Shadows.' I find it appropriate.” 

“How can you possibly ...” 

“Just do as you're asked,” Flemeth snapped. The older woman's manner could shift as easily as the wind, and it was sometimes terrifying. Luna could never predict which version of Flemeth would address her. Would it be the whimsical grandmother, or the hardened crone bent on revenge? She was pretty sure that Mythal's psyche was fractured. It made sense. Only a piece was said to reside in the human woman after all. It didn't help that Luna was pretty sure 'dragonlady' could murder her with very little effort. 

Luna glanced at her in disbelief, but tried to apply what Flemeth was telling her. There wasn't a single doubt in her mind as to why Morrigan had such a prickly and arrogant personality. Luna refused to rise to the woman's increasingly aggravating bait. Instead she focused on singing only to the seed in her hand and gasped as she felt the core of her power react. Her eyes began to glow, and the music became richer, ethereal accompaniment, and harmonies echoing through the ruins. 

 

###  [" ** Come little Children**](https://open.spotify.com/track/2GHxtccGrufkQXi3QpQk9z)” also known as "Garden of Shadows" cover by Erutan  


Come little children, I'll take thee away,  
Into a land of enchantment.  
Come little children, The time's come to play,  
Here in my garden of shadows.  
  
Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way,  
Through all the pain and the sorrows.  
Weep not poor children, For life is this way,  
Murdering beauty and passions.  
  
Hush now dear children, It must be this way,  
To weary of life and deceptions.  
Rest now my children, For soon we'll away,  
Into the calm and the quiet.  
  
Come little children, I'll take thee away,  
Into a land of enchantment.  
Come little children, The time's come to play,  
Here in my garden of shadows.

  
  


The seed began to writhe in her palm as she sang. Even as it sprouted Luna continued to guide the power within her, willing it to only that single point. It was a climber of some kind, and the tendrils shot out towards the sun, thickening as it wrapped about her arm. Roots reached for the earth at phenomenal speed, ivy erupting upwards, like tentacles, grabbing at anything in reach. 

Flemeth was speaking to her, encouraging her efforts, and urging her on. Disobedience didn't even enter Luna's thoughts, instead she dug deeper, wrestling with the cord of power that tried to wrest free of her mind's grasp. Flowers bloomed and died, only to bloom again as the plant continued to spread. 

Luna finally let the music fade and time seemed to stand still. The world was silent, paused, waiting … and then she took a breath. Everything came crashing into her senses at once as she tore herself from the clinging ropes with a cry. She ripped at the vines, pulling herself from their painful grasp, and glared at her laughing companion. 

“Well done. Now … to hone it into a weapon.” 

“So what … death by plant??” she scoffed. Luna knew she was being rude, but rubbed the damaged skin of her arms angrily. 

Flemeth sighed in exasperation. “If you mean by hindrance and strangulation … yes. Or perhaps you could have it grow within your victim? Silly girl, you didn't think your talents could only be used in a single fashion?” Luna blinked at her in confusion and the woman rolled her eyes. “When you accept what you can do, your VOICE will BE the weapon.” She smiled at her then causing chills up Luna's spine. It was cold and calculating, the feeling of 'other' and 'alien' making her skin crawl. 

The elven Goddess' behavior was increasingly strange. She hadn't exactly warmed up to Luna, but she seemed to know a great deal she wasn't sharing. How could she possibly have known a song from Earth, specifically one that Luna knew how to sing? Luna refrained from revealing more than necessary to her but lying was met with harsh rebuke. It was unsettling how well Flemeth was able to read her. Still, everything so far had seemed to be to her benefit, but that didn't mean she trusted the woman keeping her a prisoner. 

_Though … why teach me how to become a more efficient killer. If I'm a prisoner that seems a bit counter intuitive. What's the endgame here?_

Yet the _**Evanuris**_ didn't seem interested in honing anything that couldn't be used to Luna's advantage. Healing, she said, was something she could suss out on her own time. Instead they focused on her offensive abilities and her speed. One lesson was immediately followed by the next, her mind reeling at the punishing pace set by her new task master. Even with the enchantment that aided her learning, Flemeth was displeased at the rate she was absorbing lessons. She would have called the woman a slave driver, but didn't want to really touch that issue with a ten foot pole while still captive.

_The last thing I want is for her to decide I need_ _**Vallaslin**_ _._

She took to her training with as much good humor as she could muster, but the fact that she was being held against her will grated her already short temper. There was always one more lesson she needed to assimilate. Luna had taken to marking a stone pillar with her dagger for every night she spent there. By the end of the second month she was ready to risk doing something truly suicidal, in order to flee, when Flemeth caught her completely by surprise. 

“Your Templar is a boy no longer.” 

“You mean Alistair? You don't give him enough credit. He was always a man." 

“Semantics. He makes his way from Highever to Denerim. Our time here has ended.” 

“Not that it hasn't been a pleasure being your unwelcome 'guest' in a derelict Temple ...” Flemeth definitely didn't like her description of their current home. “I'm meant to be with him when he takes out that bitch Anora. How am I going to meet him in time?!” Luna growled at the elven Goddess in frustration. “I should have been part of the planning. I promised I would BE THERE for him.” 

“He needed to stand on his own, to know he would not fall without your there to guide him.” 

“OH no. Don't even try to make this about helping Alistair to 'Grow' as a person. I'm not an idiot. You've been preparing me for something. Something you have no intention of warning me about. I've NEVER had a teacher ride my ass the way you have.” Luna followed Flemeth as she strode in the direction of the **_Eluvian_**. “I've been eating, sleeping, and breathing Thedosian Magical Theory since the day I got here. I've learned so much, but I have yet to achieve the ability to shift my form. And I'm NO closer to piercing the VEIL! I am still unable to reach the Fade! What good is the knowledge to perform your magics without being able to apply it!?" 

“Those abilities will come in time. Never underestimate knowledge of how something WORKS child. Your enemies will be using these same techniques. It will help you to anticipate them." 

“So you keep saying. I still think you could have taught me a LITTLE more elvish. You also haven't elaborated on who exactly my enemies ARE!” Luna appraised the woman with unmasked suspicion as she came to a realization. She narrowed her eyes at her as she crossed her arms. “I notice you didn't argue my main point.” 

“Why? When you have already achieved an answer?” 

_Sneaky fucking … as in 'If they already think they have the answer, they stop asking questions.' SHIT._

“I fucking HATE you.” Luna did not attempt to hide a single iota of the contempt she held toward Flemeth in that moment. 

“Good. Hate will keep you alive.” Flemeth folded her own arms, her piercing eyes, judging her. Luna couldn't shake the feeling that she was disappointing some great maternal figure. Or a very scary general. They had stopped just before the stairs she'd discovered on first arriving. 

Luna sighed. She was being an ungrateful brat, and she knew it. “I … thank you. I may not have liked your tactics, but I have learned a great deal.” Luna gave her a grudging bow of respect. 

“People often forget that to truly thrive, there must be a measure of adversity. Sometimes more than the person thinks they are capable of handling.” Flemeth was smirking at her now, and Luna wished she could wipe it from her face. “Knowledge cannot simply be handed to you, if it is to take root.” Flemeth gestured towards the Eluvian, and Luna could feel the Mirror spring to life, even from this distance. “Take your freedom _**Sulahn'Nan**_. Until next we meet.” Mythal slowly faded from view, magic enveloping her. “And so … the music plays.” Her last words seemed to hang in the ruins as Luna found herself standing alone. 

“Show off,” she muttered, secretly impressed by Mythal's obvious showmanship. Luna double checked her attire to be sure she'd left nothing behind. Hopefully this wouldn't lead her some place even more unpleasant. Like the deep roads. With any luck Sandal had been able to tell the others what had happened to her. If they'd been able to understand him. She only hoped Fenris would give her a chance to explain before dumping her. Disappearing again, so quickly after the first time, and directly after she had tried to attack them probably hadn't gone over very well. 

_He ignored Hawke for three whole years. NOTHING to worry about there! I'm sure he'll be COMPLETELY REASONABLE!_

_At least I'm being sarcastic with myself in MY HEAD now instead of out loud._

_Not much of an improvement. Face it your chances of ever seeing him completely naked ..._

_NA na na na na na! I'm not LISTENING._

_Yeah … but you're totally picturing it … You're welcome._

_Point conceded._

Luna could feel herself blushing and ignored the ridiculousness of causing HERSELF to blush. Taking a deep breath Luna strode into the cool surface of the mirror and hoped her friends were alright. She hoped even harder that they'd forgive her long absence without too many questions. The only good news, was that they'd encountered Flemeth for themselves, and would likely believe the reason for the extended disappearance. Now if the mirror would only deposit her somewhere useful. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elvish)  
>  Eluvian : **Magic Mirrors from Ancient Elvhenan used as Gateways (Literally) Seeing Glass**  
>  Elvhen : **Elven name for their own race (Literally) Our People**  
>  Evanuris : **Powerful Ancient Elves that rose from leaders, to Generals, then later Gods of the Elven People.**  
>  Vallaslin : **Blood Writing. (used by Evanuris as Slave Marking in ancient Arlathan)**  
>  Sulahn'Nan : **Vengeful Song**  
> 
> 
> *Yoda - Starwars reference. If you don't know who Yoda is ... We can't be friends, I'm sorry.


	37. ENROUTE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I meant to thank each of you individually. However when I deleted the old chapters, it also deleted the comments I was responding to. Be assured that I read each comment, and appreciate the support. I will be posting my "Letter from the Author" explaining my hiatus, and current situation, for those interested on my account background. It's good to be back, and hopefully I'll be able to update on a more regular schedule! Onward!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Flemeth rematerialized in the empty courtyard, her image shifting to that of ancient Mythal's. Her elven visage was troubled, her clothing unlike any seen in Thedas for thousands of years. Sheer white cloth mingled with golden thread, and yet somehow preserved Mythal's modesty. No one yet lived that would look upon her and remember who she was. It was only a memory of what she had once been. What she still stubbornly clung to.

She furrowed her brow as she stared after Luna with a frown. With a turn of her head she glared into the empty space to her left and spoke. “She isn't ready.” Loki shimmered into place as an apparition, smirking as he stalked around the _**Evanuris**_. He wore full Asgardian regalia, his cloak floating about him as if held aloft by a phantom breeze. She scowled at his ghostly projection. “Powerful. I'll give you that … but will it be enough?”

Loki shook his head grinning. “ **EVER COMPLAINING. HAVE YOU ALWAYS BEEN THIS PESSIMISTIC?** ”

“I prefer caution!” she snapped in irritation. “What good will come of foisting such a destiny on a simple mortal?” The Earthly God only threw back his head and laughed, causing Mythal to glare at him in anger as she paced the courtyard.

“ **YOU ARE CORRECT. IT WOULD BE FOOLISH TO ENTRUST SUCH A TASK ON ONE SUCH AS YOU DESCRIBE. HOWEVER, THIS SOUL IS HARDLY THAT.** ”

The glamour of Mythal suddenly faded away, leaving Flemeth in its wake. She appeared to be tired and dejected. “What if this only makes things worse,” she questioned in a whisper.

Loki shrugged giving every appearance of collected calm saying, “ **IT WOULDN'T BE THE FIRST MISTAKE WE'VE MADE.** ” With a sigh he continued, “ **THERE IS ALWAYS THE MATTER OF FREE WILL. SHE IS FREE TO CHOOSE. AS THEY ARE ALL FREE TO CHOOSE. IF THAT LEADS US DOWN A DARKER PATH, THEN SO BE IT. IT IS A CHANCE THAT WE MUST TAKE.** ”

“You gamble too much on a single chess piece old fool,” Flemeth said, her mood shifting suddenly as she began to chuckle. “I find free will is … highly over rated.”

Loki smirked saying, “ **ON THAT, WE WHOLEHEARTEDLY AGREE. STILL, THERE ARE RULES THAT MUST BE ADHERED TO.** ”

“These rules apply even to you?”

He frowned saying, “ **THERE ARE RULES THAT EVEN ONE SUCH AS I ... CANNOT BEND NOR BREAK.** ”

Flemeth grew serious again, and she sighed. “She is the axis on which the wheel turns. Be it on your heads then.”

Loki smiled at her as his image evaporated into smoke. “ **WE ARE AS ADRIFT AS SHE. LET HER BE THE ANCHOR; FOR THE STORM WILL ONLY CONTINUE TO GROW.** ”

Rolling her eyes in response the ancient woman also vanished from view.

* * * * * *

The squelching of the greenish fluid beneath her booted feet made Luna shudder. Even cleaning the clinging liquid from her blades made her queasy. “I fucking HATE spiders.” As she neared the cave's exit she noted that it was raining again, and Luna suppressed a groan as she stepped into the deluge.

It wasn't called the Storm Coast for nothing, and Luna had been trying to leave its basalt cliffs for days. She would have recognized those chilly waters, and the shape of the surrounding coast anywhere. The Eluvian had at least brought her somewhere she could locate on a map, but she was anything but cheerful about the fact that she'd been swarmed by giant arachnids the moment the light from the magic mirror had died.

Her **SIGHT** had been the only thing that saved her that day, clearly illuminating the dangers in the dark of the caves. Apparently Luna had taken to Flemeth's grueling training well, because she had immediately reacted to the threat on reflex. She'd still had a near meltdown after she'd killed all the horrible creatures. Her heart had been hammering in her veins hard enough to rock her body with every beat, but she had survived. Her hike had inevitably led her to more caverns, which in turn led to more encounters with the giant beasties.

_This is all Tolkien's fault. He just HAD to write about giant SPIDERS. And of course EVERY SINGLE fantasy story and every RPG from that point on … has GIANT FUCKING SPIDERS in them. WHYYYYyYYyyy? I'd take a giant tortoise, or hell maybe a vorpal bunny any day._

It took another three days of hiking for her to find the King's road. By then her legs were chafed from the wet leather of her breeches, and she wanted nothing more than a really hot bath. Luna honestly couldn't remember being so cold. Her sopping wet clothing clung to her body, leeching all of her warmth, despite the long hours of trekking. It honestly felt as if she'd been swimming in an ice water lake for the last several days.

She was pleasantly surprised, not to mention extremely relieved, when she found herself approaching a small village. It took little effort to find out that she was near Highever. Luna couldn't recall ever seeing anything of the famed Cousland's land before. Origins had focused solely on the the interior of the besieged Castle, and that had only been if the player chose to play a human noble.

Luna knew that the surviving brother of the potential Warden would be the currently residing Lord. She didn't recall much about him other than the fact he had been found and healed by the Chasind after Ostagar. Unfortunately she had no real excuses to present herself to a random noble, though she was extremely curious to see if the Keep looked anything like she remembered. What happened to all the potential Wardens she wondered. Did they simply not exist here to begin with or had they all met with inglorious and unremarkable deaths?

_What was the brother's name again? Wyatt? Brendan? Keith? Wait those are nowhere near alike. Oh, this is going to bother me for the rest of the day, I know it._

She decided to steer clear of the imposing looking edifice and wondered what provisions she'd be able to procure. The market was empty, and she didn't see any signs of a general store. So she did what any good adventurer in an RPG would do. She looked for the nearest bar or tavern. It was while devouring a barely passable druffalo stew, purchased with the little money she had on her, that she finally heard that a Landsmeet had truly been called.

Rumors and gossip were a given in small towns and she gleaned as much from them as she dared. Conflicting accounts were rampant, and it took her several days, several villages, and a pounding headache to sort through them all. There was quite a bit more of it to sift through than she'd anticipated because apparently, while she'd been detained by Flemeth, Fereldan had erupted into complete upheaval.

Anora had declared the elves of Fereldan to be in open rebellion and had attempted to purge the Denerim Alienage when the servants first refused to appear for their labors. Luna had fought desperately to keep her body language neutral as she felt her stomach flip with anxiety while overhearing the news. The simple word 'Purge' echoed in her thoughts as she fought to keep calm in the face of such a horrid declaration.

It wasn't until another man had boldly started arguing with the obviously racist guard yelling about knife-ears, and what he felt they deserved, that she felt any kind of relief from the roiling guilt of having caused the deaths of so many elves.

By some miracle, the Army had found only the empty shell of long abandoned homes when they arrived to carry out the cruel Queen's orders. Subsequent searches of the neighboring villages had met with the same results. That was when she realized there had been no elves in the inn, or any other stop she'd made, and she was surprised to learn that the race was absent from almost every corner of Fereldan.

Even more surprising was that it seemed that the Queen's betrayal was common knowledge. Even the Chantry was condemning Anora's actions, and calling for her replacement. Slavery was outlawed across Fereldan for a reason, enraging not only the peasants, but the Nobility as well. Half of the Army was refusing to carry out the Queen's commands. Instead they had recused themselves, locking themselves in their barracks until the Landsmeet was concluded.

Trade was at a standstill and entire farms and businesses had simply ceased to function without the local servants to run them. When the elves began to vanish 'en masse' the upper echelons of Fereldan society had been forced to call the Landsmeet. That meant the Aristocrats were beginning to panic.

_Good. It's about time someone rattled their perfectly packaged lives._

Bands of roving elven warriors and mercenary companies were now said to be evacuating entire villages, and the Dalish were being blamed as the main culprits. There was endless debate about the veracity of these claims even in the small villages she stopped to supply in. Luna was inclined to give them credence however as even the reclusive Dalish were not to be found in their usual haunts, and the Army was being harassed in every corner of the Queen's realm.

Alistair had apparently taken her advice that the Army only be harassed, using guerrilla tactics, to heart. There were conflicting accounts, but despite all of her precautions, casualties were mounting. Though no one was calling it a Civil War, that was precisely what was occurring.

She cursed her luck however when she realized she only had a little over a week to find a way into Denerim. Then there was the matter of somehow infiltrating a heavily guarded palace without being mistaken as an assassin. It would be safer if she simply booked passage back to Kirkwall and waited for it to blow over, but she had vowed to Alistair that she would accompany him. Alistair was her friend, and she would not abandon him now.

Luna forced herself to travel at a grueling pace, desperate to keep her promise. She would make it to the Landsmeet in time even if it killed her. It felt as though she were being physically born down by the consequences of every decision she had made since arriving in Thedas. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been naive enough to believe it wouldn't come to this? Every rumored battle and confirmed death plagued her waking thoughts. Then came a chance encounter on the King's Highway, only a day's journey from the capital.

Play [ **Short Change Hero**](https://open.spotify.com/track/7JOizhmt3HlBgQyJEa0AgK?si=fFeeZqGOR42EJ8iTQSF_oA) by: The Heavy. Start it at 1:23 to skip the intro for pacing.

The terrified screams of a young woman met her ears, and she grimly drew her daggers and cursed herself for giving into sentimentality. The smart thing would be to go around whatever was going on, but whether it was the guilt, or her own sense of morality, she chose instead to investigate. Morality won when she took in the scene from the safety of a nearby tree.

A unit of the Queen's Army had surrounded a small group of elves that had been traveling in disguise and the ring leader appeared to be mercilessly beating one of the female captives. It didn't look to have progressed far, but judging by the leers several of the men were giving the wailing woman, a beating wasn't the only horror they had in store for her. Luna didn't think about what she did next. She was running on pure instinct, and took advantage of the captive audience, stealthily bearing down on one of the men from beyond his field of vision.

The filthy cur never knew that she was there, dying as quickly as she dragged him into the underbrush that lined the dirt road. No sooner had she disposed of him than she quietly closed upon her next victim. Her breathing was controlled, her heart steady, and the guilt that had weighed on her these past weeks seemed to bleed away with every kill.

On Earth she would have simply disabled the men, then called the police. However, this was not Earth. These men were ironically in the same position of power that the police of her world were afforded. No one else in Thedas was going to stop what was happening to this woman. There was no one else coming and Luna knew it fell upon her to act. Leaving wasn't an option for her. Not anymore.

Emotion would only serve to get in the way. It would only get everyone killed. She had to move carefully; timing her steps to coincide with the savagery of her enemies. Silently she tore her way towards the whimpering woman, focusing on efficiency, rather than finesse. It was only moments before someone noticed their dwindling numbers. 

There is something strangely satisfying about the vibration that runs through her bones as her daggers sliced through flesh. It no longer bothered her that said flesh belonged to a human being. It's exactly like preparing meat on the cutting board. She's never been a stranger to bleeding out an animal and as far as she's concerned … meat is meat. These … subhumans ... did not deserve the courtesy of her sympathies. She was the hunter, and they were the prey.

Luna ignored the grinding of the next man's vertebrae as she broke his neck. She ignored the spray of blood that erupted from between her fingers as another man's throat was opened. She didn't see the look of horror that her actions brought to the face of the elven woman and her fellow prisoners. Her entire existence was narrowed to the rhythm of the hunt. Kill or be killed.

She vaguely notes that not all the guards seem comfortable with what was going on. One boy is being held back by his peers as he calls out for them to stop, but she's all out of pity. They aren't the threat, and instead she homes in on the man that is still struggling to reach his weapon. His breeches are around his ankles as he dies. She thinks he was speaking to her, but she can't recall anything he was saying. It doesn't matter. She turns towards the remaining soldiers, a blood swathed visage of their impending demise.

They appeared to be in their early teens, raw recruits, rather than hardened veterans. There is no mercy left in her for those that would stand by idly while watching an atrocity unfold. The first boy lunges for her, inexpertly swinging his weapon at her like a club. Killing him is far too easy, and his corpse soon joins his brethren lying in the dirt. His compatriots follow his example and she effortlessly bats aside their undisciplined attacks.

This isn't a battle, it's a slaughter. Soon there is only one recruit left standing. He hasn't drawn his weapon, and is simply staring at her, fear rolling off his aura in nauseating waves. She grabs him roughly by the hair, kicking his feet out from under him so that he is kneeling before her and the elven captives.

“Please! I tried to stop them!” He struggles against her vice like grip.

“Not hard enough,” she hisses. Luna set's her dagger against his throat, intent on delivering a killing blow when her sight is suddenly filled with what she can only describe as a vision. Her mind is inundated with images of his friends, family and loved ones. She glimpses compassion, joy, and is filled with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. It is a vision of a life worth living. It is a vision filled with promise. It is a vision of the future. This was Innana's gift.

He is still staring at her, eyes filled with terror, as she shakes the images from her thoughts. She blinks, gazing at him in recognition. “What's your name kid?”

The boy is shaking but somehow manages to answer. “Jim … Ser. Please, I don't want to die!” She blinks at him in astonishment, she hadn't expected that to be his actual name. This is … 'Scout Jim', so named by fans of Inquisition. The boy she had almost killed, was destined to interact with prominent members of the Inner Circle of the Herald of Andraste. He is crying as she slowly releases him and offers him a hand.

“Today is your lucky day Jim. I've weighed your heart, and found it deserving of life. I would suggest you find something worthy of your allegiance in future.”

She knows that Jim mumbled a string of semi-coherent thanks as he stumbled to his feet, fleeing for his life, but she couldn't for the life of her recall any of what he said. Vacantly she gazed at the bloody scene surrounding her, as her eyes passed from one victim to the next. True, she did what needed to be done, but the elves were quickly making themselves scarce with hardly a glance back at her. They were afraid of her. She had fought for the innocent, but in doing so, could she still claim innocence herself? Or had she become the very thing she hated? More disturbing still … did she care?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evanuris : **Powerful Ancient Elves that rose from leaders, to Generals, then later Gods of the Elven People.**


	38. ASCENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Proverbial shit ... meet fan.
> 
> An extra long chapter as promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

“A rather impressive display. Although far more gruesome than it would have been had I been the perpetrator.” The smooth accent was not one that Luna had encountered before, but at a guess, she placed it as Antivan. It had a distinctive flair in the vowels and she smiled to herself as she turned to look at the speaker.

The blonde elf was everything she'd ever imagined him to be. Albeit he was taller than she'd anticipated. His arms were crossed as he leaned against a fallen log and took her measure. Green leather armor hugged his frame in a way that suggested it had been tailored just for him.

_In fact it probably WAS made just for him. Stupid Thedosians and their disproportionately … sexy genes. Heh, jeans. Sexy jeans. Gods I'm a dork._

Luna took in his appearance with an expression that, she hoped, showed nothing more than casual curiosity. He was an attractive elf, even with the tattoos that marred his face, and he preened under her lingering glance. She was probably a bit too excited to finally meet him.

“Not everything is about style. Dead is dead. I will admit however … that it would have been nice to avoid ruining my own armor.” Luna sighed in disgust at the state of her own drab leathers. They were probably beyond saving at this point. She was positively coated in bodily fluids best left uncatalogued.

“I must apologize for the behavior of my fellow brethren. It seems rather rude not to offer thanks to one's savior.“ The rogue indicated the retreating elves with his chin. “Still, what can one expect from those Fereldan born. Had this been my native Antiva, you would have been offered … proper thanks.” The salacious grin and his obvious insinuations sent Luna's thoughts careening towards something downright filthy.

_Oh you are a naughty, naughty, elf Zevran. How can he even THINK about flirting while I'm covered in gore?_

She raised a brow at him, grateful that the muck and her darker skin tone likely hid her growing blush. “Oh? What makes you think such thanks are necessary? Rather presumptuous of you.” She gestured at him with a bloody dagger as she scanned her surroundings for any further intruders. Luna was not taking chances with the assassin. Just because she knew him from Origins didn't mean he was the same person. This could be an ambush.

“Necessary, perhaps not. Let us just say I have a weakness for beautiful women.” He faced his open palms toward her, revealing his empty hands. “Ah, but it does not seem our introduction is proceeding as smoothly as I would have wished. I merely came to offer you my aid, Lady Luna.” He smirked at her as she carefully lowered her daggers.

“Just Luna. I have claims to neither lands nor titles. Were you sent to keep an eye out for me Zevran?” The sun painted the sky in brilliant hues of orange as it sank below the horizon. It was something she would like to capture one day … if she were ever in a position to simply pursue art again.

He didn't bat an eye at her use of his name and simply continued to lay the flattery on thickly. “Both eyes. Intelligent as well as bewitching. I must say Warden Alistair has excellent taste. I will need to thank him properly for sending me to find you.” She gave an internal sigh of relief when his aura proved him to be truthful.

Luna couldn't help but roll her eyes; relaxing as he grew more cheerful. She began to clean her daggers on the tabard of one of the fallen soldiers as she knelt beside him. They seemed more like mercenary scum than Fereldan's disciplined fighting force now that she was looking closely at them. Anora must be scraping the bottom of the barrel to carry out her dirty work. That also explained the unusual number of raw recruits. Zevran followed her example and they began to loot the corpses of anything useful in record time. “Shouldn't you be glued to our would be King's side?”

“The same could be said of you my Lady.”

“I was … detained.”

“This seems to be a fairly common occurrence for you.”

“Remind me to smack Varric the next time I see him. He's been spreading lies again I see.” Luna began casually tossing and stacking the bodies. They would need to be disposed of if they didn't want them shambling back to life at some point.  One Andrastian practice she agreed with was the burning of corpses.  It was simpler than burial, and far more sanitary, helping to halt the spread of disease.  Zevran didn't seem to be phased by her disproportionately inhuman strength.

_Never thought piling bodies and lighting them on fire to prevent zombie-hood was something I'd ever have to worry about. Thought it would bother me more. Am I going to have some sort of nervous breakdown at some point?_

“It would be unfair to place all blame at the dwarf's feet. Rumor of your exploits has reached far and wide my Lady.” He smiled easily at her and she wondered how he could remain so chipper or if it was only a mask.

“As I said,” Luna said concluding her search with a wry grin. “Remind me to smack him. And quit calling me a Lady.”

“You would not believe half of your rumored exploits. I must say, I expected you to be much taller given the wild assortment of tales.” Luna couldn't help the frustrated groan that escaped her lips. Even with her recent height increase, Zevran was still taller than she was.

_I'd guess I'm what, five six/five seven now? Ugh._

“I'm not short. Everyone else is freakishly tall!” Luna waved an arm around haphazardly. “I take it that smug little bastard's spy network caught wind of me? Though why YOU would be chosen as my escort is a little worrying.” Luna used some spare cloth to clean herself of most of the aftermath of combat.

“Alistair assured me that recognition would not be an issue.” Zevran reached out to the silver of her hair, twirling the strands between his fingers. “I was given a very … thorough description by the surly, white haired elf.”

“That would be Fenris,” Luna said a little too loudly. Her heart began racing just at the thought of him and she cursed herself. Attachment was dangerous. She knew this. So why couldn't she stop thinking about him.

If Zevran noticed he didn't let on. “And how did you recognize me? I could never forget meeting a woman such as yourself.”

“I've seen things.” She didn't elaborate and hoped Zevran took the hint.

He nodded. “The human … Alon I believe, was rather insistent we keep a lookout for you. At least … that is what we think. His accent is atrocious. Also you have not exactly been hiding your presence.” He indicated the now neatly arranged corpses as he poured a vial of oil over them, then began searching through a pouch for a way to light it. “Perhaps this is your crude attempt at stealth?”

She snorted at that. “Subtle is my middle name. You seem to understand MY accent just fine.” Luna casually flung a bolt of lightning towards the makeshift pyre and the bodies were abruptly engulfed in flame. He didn't even flinch, and his aura remained a still pool of collected calm.

_What does it take to rattle this elf?_

“Ah, but yours is different, no?” Zevran flashed her a disarming smile.

Nodding she glanced in the direction of Denerim. The fires of the city were clearly visible from this distance, but it would still take some time to approach. “Well then good ser. Shall we join our comrades. I would hate to miss such a lovely party.”

“Ah, _**bella**_. Do not worry. They are no doubt stuck in endless debate. We shall only be fashionably late.” Throwing a wink at her he took off at a run. Luna smiled to herself and chased closely behind.

* * * * *

Alistair suppressed the urge to groan aloud. Teagan insisted they were making excellent progress, but he simply couldn't see it. They had been arguing their point before the Nobles for over four hours. Anora's faction insisted that despite her alleged underhanded dealings, she had actually strengthened Fereldan. Even though she denied the allegations, as matriarch, she was disinclined to share the details of exactly what she HAD done to safeguard the nation.

She used the slow recovery of their cities from the Blight, and the sad state of their Treasuries as proof of the kingdom's decline. If she had not acted swiftly, she claimed, the country would have weakened and, eventually, collapsed under its own weight. Her actions as Queen had also saved them from an inevitable Orlesian invasion apparently. It was a ploy she had blatantly copied from her father. If there was one thing all of Fereldan could agree on; it was that Orlesians were a pox on Thedas.

She had declared Alistair an upstart usurper from the beginning, ordering his immediate arrest and execution. It was only Teagan's masterful use of political leverage that kept him firmly in the council chamber. He was grateful that her commands had so far been ignored. If only he could be sure that they would remain so.

He had remained silent for the most part, allowing his 'uncle' the time to call in favors, but inwardly he was torn. The gathered Nobles didn't seem motivated to let the lowly bastard speak, but then why was he here? He refused to be a puppet King, propped up for special occasions as they awaited a royal heir that likely wouldn't come. Teagan said that he'd grown to respect him. It was time to put that to the test.

“I must congratulate you Queen Anora,” Alistair drawled much to the astonishment of the gathered Aristocracy. She lifted her chin arrogantly in his direction but he interrupted her before she could speak. “You claim the Treasuries have run dry and that you have nothing but disdain for all things Orlesian. Yet here you sit wearing silks that clearly come from no where else. As a matter of fact you seem to be fairly swimming in jewelry I don't recall you flaunting when last we met. The … financial acrobatics required to maintain such a lifestyle are to be applauded.”

Silence enveloped the chamber as everyone took in the Queen's appearance. There was no denying that she was richly coiffed and attired in the latest fashions. In comparison those gathered seemed to be more conservatively garbed. While far from threadbare it was obvious that nothing they wore was new. Fereldan was enduring hard times, and many of the Noble families were having to tighten their belts.

The Queen only scoffed. “Should a Queen not impress upon her people her station? Should they not be in awe of us?” Her implication that he was a simpleton was crude and obvious. Had she learned nothing in her years as Queen? Being forced to deal with the cut throat Merchant's Guild seemed to have better prepared him than he'd thought. Alistair knew he had hit on something, she was practically seething under the polite mask she wore. "All these hours and all you concern yourself with is our dress? Perhaps these proceedings are too arduous for one raised a peasant?”

“You mistake quiet observation for ignorance my Lady.” Anora clenched her teeth at his verbal demotion of her. “You say the country can ill afford following its own sacred laws in face of poverty and starvation. Though you continue to deny any knowledge of illegal activities. Yet here you sit, layered in riches that could rebuild half of Denerim. I cannot be the only one who finds the hypocrisy … astonishing.” Alistair narrowed his eyes, abandoning the pretense of polite conversation. “But not half as astonishing as where you attained your wealth.”

“Our personal fortune was rightfully inherited. What WE do with it is OUR own business.”

“That dress represents the shattered lives of countless Fereldan families. It should be crimson with the blood money used to pay for it,” he snarled. “Did it give you comfort that they were only elven or would you have sold even your human subjects for a few pretty dresses?”

“We will not sit here and be demeaned by a lowly bastard! Where is your proof of these heinous accusations!”

Teagan took that moment and slammed a stack of documents onto the table before him with a resounding thud. “We shall present that in due course,” he declared in triumph.

Alistair felt the corners of his mouth lift in the first hints of a smile as the room erupted into shouting. He waited until there was a break in the cacophony and spoke directly to Anora again. “You're right.” The room slowly hushed as they strained to follow. “I AM a bastard. Let us focus on that a moment. Royal bastard Alistair Theirin. That's me.” He pointed at himself with a hint of his usual self deprecating humor. “But what about YOU?” Anora raised an eyebrow, not dignifying him with a response. “You have conveniently left out your refusal to wed in all this discussion.”

“I don't have to listen to this,” she hissed, no longer hiding her anger.

“Yes. You do. Because everyone in this room knows I am Maric's bastard. You've worked very hard to ensure that is an acknowledged FACT.”

“A flimsy EXCUSE to place you on MY throne!” He noted her dropping of the royal 'we' and was sure others had as well.

“My BROTHER'S throne. Actually,” Alistair growled. “I'm sure you remember your late husband. The one your father conveniently abandoned to death in his bid for power.” The tension in the room only mounted with each word he uttered. “That however, is NOT my point.”

“And what, pray tell, IS your point Alistair THEIRIN? If you even have one.” Her voice was dripping with disdain.

Alistair gave her a superior smirk. “I am proof that Maric fathered heirs.” Nervous coughing and shuffling filled the room. It was a dirty trick considering Alistair's Warden blood likely prevented him from fathering any further children. Another Warden secret he kept despite leaving their Order. However this wasn't about playing fair.  Anora's mask had fallen firmly back into place. She exuded all the emotion of a cold stone and he hoped that was a good sign.   He was surprised that no one had intervened on the Queen's behalf. Guilt free, he snapped the trap shut. “Something you're incap … I mean, something you refuse to do.” The room was instantly filled with an uproar of voices. Accusations flew back and forth and he would have been concerned but for the approving smile that Teagan threw his way.

_Perhaps Luna was right. Maybe I do have what it takes to be a King._

Another few hours of fruitless bickering passed and Alistair was wondering if he was the only one that actually wanted to accomplish anything. However he had noticed that as the day wore on, more and more of the Queen's supporters were falling silent. While not endorsing him, they seemed to be withdrawing their support for Anora. It was clear by the expression on her face that she had also noticed this growing trend.

The room was unbearably hot and filled with all manner of bodily odors. However paranoia stayed everyone from suggesting any of the grand windows be opened. Though offering superior ventilation for a castle this size, a good assassin could easily use such openings as an invitation. Instead they had to be content with several much smaller vents being opened in adjoining chambers. Still it was sweltering and Alistair was beginning to become desperately parched with all the talking. He was just glad the sun had finally set, bringing the promise of the cooler night air.

Anora fanned herself, though what little relief it brought her in the unbearable stuffiness of the room Alistair couldn't say. She cleared her throat then, sounding light headed and said, “You have reminded me, that it is the prosperity of our kingdom that is of utmost importance. Let us refresh ourselves and then continue this discussion, remembering to keep the welfare of the people, foremost in our hearts and minds.”

Alistair rolled his eyes, and Teagan surreptitiously kicked him in the shin beneath the large meeting table. She gestured to the servants to bring fresh wine from the deepest of their cellars. He reluctantly accepted the wine goblet, so as not to appear he was dismissing her generosity, but quietly set it aside to avoid the temptation. He would sip it as he must, but still had to fight to urge to tip the entire contents back in a single gulp.

Being so occupied with his thirst, he was startled when he noticed that Teagan and many of the other Nobles, quietly touched their rings to the ruby liquid. Though he'd never seen such gems in person, he was well acquainted with enchanted jewelry. There appeared to be no danger however, as Teagan nodded at him, and took a careful drink. Of course he should have expected such precautions would be needed in Anora's court. He was merely shocked at his near mistake of simply drinking anything offered without a thought.

Several servants carted in a large block of ice to whispered commentary. They quickly began chopping through it at Anora's command. “Would any of you care for a cooler drink?” There was murmured appreciation for the extravagance of such a thing. Alistair happily accepted several large pieces that he asked be placed in a separate glass, before popping one in his mouth. He gave a happy sigh and Anora smiled at him as she sipped her own beverage.

Things proceeded as slowly as he'd come to expect and as the minutes passed he found he needed to clear his throat regularly. At first he thought nothing of it but soon others were doing the same; including several of the servants. When the first fit of coughing began Alistair stared at the Queen in sudden understanding and absolute loathing. Her personal guards secured and barred the exits without warning and those not fighting to breathe were quickly subdued.  The personal entourages of the gathered Nobles took immediate notice, and a barrage of thuds could be heard as they attempted to break in.

Anora's maniacal laughter began ringing out as he collapsed, along with most of the others gathered. She had not spared even those who had championed her.  Her wrath had been indiscriminate. The gloating Queen descended the dais and approached Teagan as he struggled against the soldiers. Appearing completely cool and collected she struck him across the face with a forceful slap.

“You thought you could outmaneuver me? ME?! I survived an imbecile for a husband. I rid myself of my manipulative father. I triumphed during the Blight and banished this pretender and now I've defeated my treacherous court!” Anora sneered at the dying men and women around her. “Take them away, I'll enjoy seeing them flogged!” The guard began carrying out her commands immediately.

Teagan refused to go quietly, and yelled with all his might as he fought. “You'll never get away with this Anora! You'll have no support! You've destroyed Fereldan!”

There was suddenly a thunderous crash, and the locked doors were thrown off their hinges. Fenris barged into the room followed closely by Alon and the personal guards of every Bann, Teryn, and Arl. Portions of the door were still landing across the room as they reacted. There was no need to explain, the elven warrior simply began cutting down the Queen's men.  Alon was a blur of motion as he subdued Teagan's captors, intent on keeping the man safe. His speed was unnatural. Alistair had only ever seen Luna move so quickly.

“Good luck putting a corpse on the throne!” Anora screeched as she fled through a hidden escape passage. It was the last thing he saw, before succumbing to darkness.

* * * * *

Luna and Zevran entered the city without incident using a route he claimed to have used on many such occasions. She didn't bother asking what those occasions might have been. The guards were conveniently missing, and she wondered if they'd been bribed, or if he'd simply dispatched them. It was probably too much to ask that entering the palace be just as easy. Still, one could hope.

The Alienage was deathly quiet as Luna and Zevran passed through its empty streets. It pained her to see it this way. There had clearly been no effort to repair the damage it had sustained during the Blight. The burnt out remnants of buildings stood like skeletons, rotting wood piled along with stone rubble at random intervals.

She had been of two minds when it came to Anora's fate. Either they locked her up forever in some tower, or had her executed for war-crimes. The 'Broker' had been a vocal proponent for the latter. What she saw next unequivocally decided it for her. The _**Vhenadahl**_ drew her gaze as her gorge rose in her throat. The air was filled with the sound of droning flies by the thousands. 

Despite the rumors, it appeared not all the elves had made it safely away. The bodies of several elven servants hung from the tree like overripe fruit. They were still dressed in the Royal livery. Dozens more were piled against the defiled trunk. It didn't improve matters that some of the casualties were human.  The _**Vhenadahl**_ was dead; deliberately poisoned if the state of the ground, and vegetation around the once proud tree was anything to go by. The stench crashed into her like a wall, and she stopped in her tracks, grabbing Zevran's attention.

He frowned knowingly and shook his head. “There is nothing to be done for them at present. Come, I know how to enter the palace unseen.”

She nodded numbly, too angry to speak, but followed him willingly. Anora would pay for what she'd done, Luna would make sure of it. Not just because of what she'd seen here, but for every wrong she'd committed against her own people. Luna intended to ensure the Queen of Fereldan's story didn't end in meaningless house arrest. Anora Mac Tir ... needed to die.

Zevran took her towards the outer wall of the palace. There didn't seem to be any way for the guards to see them from this angle and she wondered at that. Several large trees grew here in such a way that it obscured the path. It was rather steep, but surely someone could have scaled the wall at this juncture if given enough incentive. Why would they design the wall so that it couldn't see this corner?

The Antivan assassin was smirking as he led her to what appeared to be a dead end wall. She was baffled as he continued forward, at this pace he'd surely slam his face into the stone edifice. “What ...” she began saying before he stepped past where the wall should have been. She blinked in astonishment. What looked like a flat wall was in fact an inset passage. This wasn't something achieved through magic, It was an optical illusion created by the method of construction.

Luna took a steadying breath as they rounded a corner then entered the the dark tunnel beyond. It looked ancient but was thankfully clear of webbing. She didn't think she could handle anymore spiders at the moment. “How did you even find this Zevran?”

He chuckled saying, “Alistair and I found it quite some time ago. We were going to use it as a back up in case Anora decided to execute him … many years ago. I would have used smoke to conceal our escape. It does not appear to have been discovered. It SHOULD lead us toward the Throne room.”

“SHOULD,” she asked. “And how long SHOULD it take us to get there?”

“Longer if we simply stand here arguing. Now I would suggest quiet. It wouldn't do to scare away our quarry by alerting them to our presence.”

“Why Zev! Are you planning on assassinating someone,” Luna asked in feigned shock.

“Well … I AM an assassin,” he said seriously. “Truthfully? Today, only Anora and her minions need fear me.”

“Trust me. I have no intention of letting that bitch live.” They spent the next twenty minutes completely mute. Their soft steps made no sound in the winding, back and forth tunnel. Both of them were too practiced for such a small mistake. If Luna didn't know any better she'd swear she'd suddenly gone deaf. She wasn't sure how good elven eyesight was, but he seemed to have no trouble finding his way in the gloom. Finally, the oppressive dark gave way to a faint light coming through cracks in the dead end wall that greeted them.

They froze in surprise when they realized that they could clearly hear Alistair beyond the stone wall. Anora's shrewish responses seemed to be closer than the other voices. Luna couldn't believe it. The tunnel had led them directly to the seat of power in Fereldan. The passage was dangerous to have lain empty and forgotten. If they'd been inclined to, they could easily have wiped out the entire Landsmeet. She couldn't see him through the cracks despite craning her neck. There seemed to be some sort of tapestry concealing the exit.

At a loss she mimed at Zevran questioningly but he only shrugged. Apparently they would wait for the time being. She took a seat on the cool stone floor, grateful that she didn't have to endure the heat the council continually complained of. Then all hell broke loose with everyone involved yelling at once. She wasn't sure WHAT Anora had done, but the subsequent arrest of the Nobles was easy enough to decipher. They were on their feet, preparing to storm the room when there was a loud crash. Luna couldn't believe it when moments later their target walked right into them.

“YOU,” the Queen screamed hysterically while back pedaling. “THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOU DID THIS!”

“Did I? Pretty sure there were others involved.”

“You're the overstepping slut that raised Alistair from the GUTTER he belonged in. Don't insult my intelligence LUNA!”

“Whaddya know Zevran,” Luna said with a sinister grin. “The Bitch Queen knows my name.”

“You're nothing but a slant-ear shagging strumpet!” Anora hissed frantically and pulled a stiletto from her bun leaving her blonde hair to cascade around her shoulders.

They were on the dais now as Anora fled back around the Throne. Fenris was finishing up his destructive rampage, removing his arm from an opponent's chest with a squelch. Luna raised an eyebrow at the panicked Queen and readied her daggers. “Oh I don't know. We seem to be doing pretty well. I'd say your rule is at an end, any last words?”

Anora moved to stab her but Luna deflected the pathetic attempt and easily disarmed her. The stiletto embedded itself deep into the cushions of the throne. The queen gasped in pain and clutched her broken wrist with a whimper. “You've LOST your MAJESTY.” Luna couldn't help rubbing it in; relishing the moment.

The traces of madness could be seen dancing behind Anora's eyes. “I hope that comforts you when my poison finishes its work and leaves you in a room full of corpses!”

Luna glanced at the prone bodies around the room, finally glimpsing Alistair as he struggled to breathe and everything she'd overheard fell into place. “You whore spawned thunder cunt!” With a furious roar she lunged at the infuriating woman summoning her strength Sigil. There were shouts for Luna to stay her hand, but she ignored them in favor of finishing this once and for all. She attempted to plunge both daggers deeply into Anora's chest and was stunned when she found herself thrown back by an unknown force. " ** _Shibal_** _!_ ”

The Queen's gaudy jewelry flashed with a brilliant red light. Anora was wearing enchantments designed to throw up some sort of shield. Judging by the surprised look on Anora's face she'd been unaware of the arcane nature of her accouterments. This only served to anger Luna further.

The only magics in Thedas that had affected her to date had been born of Blood Magic. They had likely been gifted, or bought, through agents of the Tevinter Imperium. The adornments had to have been created using forbidden magics. Luna felt her hatred for the Anora grow beyond anything she'd known she was capable of. The sheer stupidity of this woman, combined with greed, and near untouchable status made Luna sick to her stomach.

“Blood Magic,” Luna snarled pulling herself off the floor. “Why am I not FUCKING surprised.” Fenris joined her in facing off Anora, guarding Luna's flank without a word. They lunged at the Queen synchronously, only to have their weapons slam against the impenetrable barrier. Anora staggered and Alon stalked behind her with a sword as large as Fenris' but met with the same result. Zevran circled around, throwing a seemingly endless stream of hidden daggers. They could not reach her.

“ **Luna! I don't know what she's dosed them with but it's bad!** ” Alon slashed at the Queen again, herding her away from the fallen Nobles. His technique was flawless, she had to admit. He had the appearance of a warrior trained longer than a mere handful of months.

Luna scanned the room and found Teagan leaning over Alistair as he called for a healer. It was no good, every other person in the room was asking the same. Even if their retainers managed to find one in time there were simply too many people dying. Thinking quickly, she unclasped her potion belt with one hand and threw it to Zevran, calling his name. “The white one's are an antidote!” His eyes lit in understanding as he unstopped the first vial and forced Alistair to drink.

Anora seemed to be growing more distressed despite their inability to murder her. It was then that Luna saw the blood dripping from the Queen's wrists. The bracelets she wore had embedded themselves into her skin, leeching power from her blood. She was frantically trying to remove them but seemed unable to dislodge them. It was then that Luna noticed they weren't made exclusively of gold. She wasn't sure exactly which Thedosian metal had been used. The distance, combined with Anora's antics, made it impossible to discern with any accuracy.

“She must be dealt with quickly. They draw on her life force, but the barrier is a precaution, not the ultimate goal of such an enchantment!” Fenris warned. Alon and Fenris battered at the barrier in an attempt at weakening it. The coordination of their rapid attacks was really quite impressive. "She will be possessed!"  They weren't even breaking a sweat. The torchlight glinted off their weapons and armor, presenting a very pretty picture.

Suddenly Luna was hit with a moment of clarity and inspiration. To hold an enchantment, an item had to be crafted very specifically, and of highly refined materials. As such the Queen's bracelets must be of the purest metals. Flemeth had been a grueling taskmaster drilling her not only in practical application, but giving endless lectures on magical theory. Recently Luna had been developing her abilities at both healing, and plant growth. Both of these, at least by aspect, related to the acceleration of time.

Pulling on the subtle threads found repeated in both forms of magic should enable her to rapidly age any material. Thus, combined with her **Acceleration** spell, it would be at least theoretically possible for her to target an object, causing it to rapidly decay. The best part was that Luna had already proven it was possible the same day she'd accidentally fused herself to a warehouse floor.

On a specific target, it would act to destabilize the enchantments. All metal, over time, tries to return to its base state. If the jewelry had been made entirely of gold, as it didn't rust, this would have been problematic. The fact that they weren't, and instead comprised cheaper material, only worked in Luna's favor. The barrier seemed designed to repel physical attacks … but nothing can withstand the inexorable river of time.

_ The resulting explosion as the enchantments fail should be more than enough to blow the Queen's hands off at the wrists ever so nicely. _

Anora gave a hideous screech and bolts of sickening red energy lashed across the room. The council table splintered and several body guards fell injured to the floor.

Grinning like a madwoman Luna casually put away her weapons as she dove for cover with Fenris. “I have an idea,” she said looking at him. “... and you're not going to like it.”

Recovering from his rough landing he growled out, “If you've an idea, out with it."

“I need to draw on your Lyrium.” Fenris spat out a string of curses in Tevene, clearly upset with the suggestion. “You know I wouldn't normally ask this of you," she insisted.  "Trust me."  


He took a moment to answer, furrowing his brow in distaste.  “Very well, but when this is finished, you owe me answers.”

“Fine,” she said unhappily.

Everyone looked at her in confusion when she launched herself to her feet standing directly before the Queen. She traced the newly envisioned Sigil with her right hand with a flourish. It was reminiscent of the Sigil of **Accelerate** but far more complex. She felt her mana draining away rapidly as her eyes flared with golden light and she fixed her gaze firmly on her target. Ignoring the danger Luna lifted her left hand, and traced the Sigil again, this time mirroring the last. They floated, side by side, in the air before her crackling with magic. Power bled away from her and she was quickly depleting her reserves. “Now Fenris!” The elf obliged, coming to stand behind her, and activated his Lyrium.

She heard him groan as the intoxicating sensation of his mana filled her. The scent of ozone became more pronounced, and she directed the extra energy directly into the pulsing Sigils. Unsure how long they could keep the connection, Luna triggered the spell, and prayed. Anora's reaction was instant and the woman's terrified screaming would haunt her for the rest of her days.

Luna's experiment was executed perfectly but the spell had an unintended, and rather horrific, side effect. The human woman's hands began to age at a fantastic rate. First the flesh dehydrated, darkened spots appearing on the once flawless skin. However as time continued its hastened advance, her hands bloated, the muscle stretching through translucent skin. Pieces of the woman's fingers fell with a splat to the floor; the stench of rot filled the room as her hands melted.

Judging by the sound of it, multiple people in the room lost control of their bodily functions. Still screaming, Anora stared at herself, as gore encrusted bone gave way to white. The remnants of the appendages yellowed and cracked, then fell away to dust. The bracelets fell to the floor with twin clunks as the gems scattered across the floor, loosed by their rusting brackets. The barrier that protected the Queen vanished. Luna fell to her knees, dizzy from exertion, and felt Fenris drop the connection between them.

_Not what I meant to do, but that'll work._

A worried glance at the elf showed him slumped against the remains of the table. Something hard was digging against her knee and she realized she'd landed on the pommel of his sword. Forcing herself to stand she brought the weapon to bear. Avoiding the disgusting piles of decaying tissue Luna approached the kneeling Queen. Anora was finally silent, gaping at the floor, jaw working open and closed. Without a second thought Luna brought the sword down on Anora's neck with all her strength. “So ends Anora Mac Tir," she sighed.

Leaning down she grasped the newly severed head by its dull, bloodstained locks. Turning to the gathered Nobles she held it aloft and declared, ”The Tyrant is dead!” Her breath came heavily, the spell had taken a tremendous toll on her, and she struggled to remain standing. “Anyone have a problem with that?!” She was met by continued silence as the neck dribbled cooling blood down her arm. “I didn't think so.” She absently dropped the offending head at her feet and stumbled towards the unconcious Fenris.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shibal [씨발] : Korean offensive word, similar to ‘Fuck’ or ‘Shit’
> 
>  
> 
> *** Sooooo. Good? Bad? Let me know! I'm a comment junkie! Besides, it helps motivate me. Hint, hint, I'm already editing it!***


	39. ARISE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

 

The elixir kept Alistair from dying, along with the majority of the other victims. Luna's delivered miracle of an antidote was received with mixed results. Apparently the recovery of so many survivors was the only thing that kept the more reactionary Nobles from simply executing her. No one wanted to accept responsibility for this recent debacle.

The Circle Healer arrived just after she'd joined Fenris in a heap on the floor. It was shortly discovered, interrogating Anora's remaining staff, that the late Queen had stockpiled the remedy prior to the Landsmeet. They administered it to those unfortunate enough to have been skipped in Zevran's mad dash to save them.  Luna and Fenris were left to convalesce; their fates declared to be in the Maker's hands.

Alon had somehow managed to give two full vials of antidote to Fergus Cousland of Highever during the fighting. The Teryn survived the experience relatively unscathed and was the first of the fallen to recover. The happy accident worked in their favor. Teagan and Fergus had enough clout between them to declare Alistair defacto Heir. This was met with anger by the families of those who'd died untreated. The fallout forced Alon to flee the city, and he took word of the Landsmeet to The Champion of Kirkwall. Anders arrived on Turik's fastest ship shortly thereafter reviving Fenris in due course.

In Alon's absence speculation returned to Luna and she was forced from the Healers' care and promptly removed to the dungeons. It was far too convenient that Luna had just happened to have a cure on hand. Then there was the fact she was 'clearly' an Apostate! True she had saved the country, and many lives, but she had done so with the rather pesky detail of the assassination of a Queen. They couldn't simply allow her to roam, or even lay abed freely! Think of the precedent it would set!

Of course Luna wasn't aware of any this for some time. She spent weeks wracked by metaphysical instability and the most vivid nightmares she'd ever endured. Anora played a prominent role in each one, her death playing out in increasingly gruesome fashion.  Phantoms of Luna's friends and family, old and new, joined the Queen in a never ending parade of death. Normally Luna would have been excited at the prospect of her dreams doing more than mirroring reality but the all encompassing terror, and the persistant feeling of being watched, stole any novelty from the experience.

When she did finally open her eyes, Luna was surprised and relieved to see Anders asleep in a corner, surrounded by an assortment of empty blown glassware. Fenris made a rather good pillow, cradling her on the raised wooden board topped with a thin pallet, that Thedas laughingly called a cot. It was strange to feel him without his armor, instead clad in an billowing swordsman's shirt, and dark linen trousers. He made no move to dislodge her, even as she stirred, and she happily accepted the more comfortable option of lounging against him.

Her impromptu spellcasting had borne a cost she hadn't calculated for.  She seemed to have become partially unstuck or unbound from the regular flow of time. One moment everyone and everything was moving at a highly accelerated rate she found hard to follow. A handful of heartbeats later, and the world would slow to being near motionless. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad news that it never reversed course. Luna realized that no one else seemed surprised by this; that she must be the one affected.

It was maddening, if rather funny, when their facial expressions froze in place, and she wondered if she appeared the same to their eyes. She took the opportunity to study them carefully over the next few days, and noticed there was something very wrong between them. Anders had a semi-permanent scowl reserved for the elf, and said elf blatantly ignored the Healer. Their feud regarding the treatment of Mages must have reignited. She made a mental note to ask them about it later.

Half of what they said to her sounded like complete gibberish. Anders saved her sanity when he finally produced a small, handheld slate, and a stick of chalk. Of course the first few sentences they exchanged were a stern lecture on the stupidity of using untested magics in combat. He and Fenris were free to leave the cell at any time, Anders being snuck in by Zevran daily, and Fenris having already been exonerated of wrong doing.

Alistair was still extremely ill, from what she was able to gather. Communication was tedious and wore at her considerably thin patience. When she learned that the antidote hadn't instantly counteracted the poison she'd been beside herself with worry. Fenris assured her that his recovery time was more natural than her own experience.

_No wonder Fenris was so angry at the time. All those unanswered questions and then I healed from a near fatal poisoning in minutes instead of weeks._

She was puzzled that there were no posted guards until they explained that she'd driven them all away. This was the fourth cell they'd needed to move her to; the previous three having had the bars blown into shards of exploding metal during her magical fits. Fenris and Anders had been the only ones brave enough to approach, and somehow their presence had worked to stabilize her.

Luna remained a 'guest' of the Court until Alistair finally awoke and demanded her immediate release. As he'd already been declared Heir, no one seemed inclined to argue, especially when he publicly credited her with saving Fereldan.  Zevran had been rather happy to paste the proclamations all over the city and voluntarily spread the tale in several brothels. Alistair mended rapidly; his sallow, sunken cheeks filling in due to his voracious Warden appetite.

By then whatever was affecting her seemed to stabilize. Time resumed its normal march, and Luna was extremely relieved. She promised herself not to attempt anything so foolish again … maybe. Zevran apologetically took his leave then, stating that he had 'unfinished business' in Antiva that had been put off for far too long. She was going to miss his over the top one liners, but knew that the situation with the Crows needed to be dealt with before the Assassin's Guild managed to kill him.

Luna was fitted with a new set of ceremonial, and extremely uncomfortable, scale mail for Alistair's upcoming coronation. Despite her protestations Teagan believed her presence, as their rescuer, was a forgone conclusion. She only agreed when Anders pointed out that it would give her an excuse to keep her features obscured under a helmet. There was already wide speculation as to her identity that they were hard pressed to control.

_Yeah, good luck with that. The rumor mill is having a field day. A frat party even.  
_

Fenris never left her side; shadowing her to and from her appointed rooms as an obvious deterrent to troublemakers. They hadn't spoken more than a dozen words to each other since she'd been released from the cells. Every night he slept in her chambers on the large armchair by the window. This despite the fact he had been given his own quarters down the hall which, according to a stern Teagan, was highly scandalous.

It couldn't continue like this she knew. The contrast between the ever widening gulf of silence, and waking safely enfolded in Fenris' arms, scared her. However when he didn't broach the subject, she cowardly accepted the growing strain between them. He obviously needed time to think ... Truth be told, she was completely out of her depth. Violence and nightmares she could handle. Violence was simpler. Feelings on the other hand were complicated, messy things, that led to awkward conversations and ugly breakups.

The hasty preparations for the Coronation proceeded without her input, which she was glad of. Alistair seemed more accepting of his role than she'd expected given his earlier reticence. They all spent time in the training yard, or in his rooms playing Chess between fittings, and avoiding mothering healers. If anyone was curious about who they were to the future King, they were too polite to ask. It amused the men that she was an abominable Chess player. Luna used every interruption to blatantly cheat … badly.

“What? I said I knew the rules, not that I was any good at it,” she whined.

Anders smirked at her as he took her last Knight saying, “Are you even TRYING?”

“I will END you MAGE,” she grumbled playfully, moving her King into further jeopardy.

Fenris scoffed at that; continuing to survey something out the window as Anders glared at him. “Wonderful. Now you even SOUND like Fenris. I thought you LIKED Mages,” the Warden said sounding put out. Luna was grateful that their friendship was returning to something resembling normal.

Luna rolled her eyes and palmed one of his pieces while he was distracted. Alistair caught her and returned it to the board with mock seriousness. “You'll never learn if you keep that up,” he said admonishing her.

“Who says I WANT to learn?! I hate this game,” she pouted.

“WHAT!? This is a time honored tradition! Templars are actually required to learn it you know.” Luna stuck her tongue out at him impishly.

“It would do you good. There's a lot to be learned from a Chess board,” Fenris interjected, finally joining the conversation. Luna bit her lip as she looked at him, their eyes catching, before she cleared her throat and simply nodded vigorously.

_This is fucking ridiculous. Talking to him isn't going to kill you! Wait … did he just imply I'm reckless???? Or maybe it was tactless … he was definitely implying SOMETHING!_

Glancing between the three of them, Alistair heaved a great sigh, and flopped onto the nearby loveseat. “I'll miss this,” he intoned, suddenly somber.

“What?” Luna began ticking off points on her fingers. “Random violence? Near death experiences? Not knowing where your next meal will come from? Unexpected magical **shenanigans**? The endless bickering and petty revenge? Or just making fun of me,” Luna asked with a grin.

Alistair smiled wistfully saying, “Yes. All that. But mostly just being able to be myself.” Luna felt a pang of melancholy sweep through her. There was an overly long pause and he was looking at her fondly ... when did that happen?

“I'll miss you too Alistair,” she said softly, and she truly meant it. They would never be together like this again. He would soon be a King. There would be little opportunity to spend time with uninvited guests. She briefly considered staying for him, acting as his body guard and confidant, but knew that she needed to return to Kirkwall. It was time for him to stand on his own, and she was confident that he could.

When lunch was brought in by the servants she wordlessly flung a piece of his favorite cheese to him with a sad smile of her own. He grinned widely, taking a judicious bite, and muttered his thanks with his mouth full. His actions carried with them a wave of nostalgia and she smiled wistfully into her drink. They all grew quiet after that, each stuck in their own musings as they ate.

Anders soundly kicked her ass across the game board.

* * * * *

Luna was livid. The servants quietly gave her a wide berth as she stormed out of the banquet hall. The day had not gone as smoothly as she would have liked, not by a long shot.  She was sure the Nobles had insisted the Templars attend the celebration purely because she would be there. She should have expected it given the way Anora had died, but it still rankled.  Luckily the 'Hero of Fereldan' had declined the royal invitation citing pressing 'Warden Business' or things may have been even worse. 

When she was introduced to the new Knight-Commander of one of the smaller Circles she had been grateful to have her face hidden. Geoffery had actually been promoted sometime after their last parting. She had almost greeted him as a friend when they were first introduced but barely stopped herself.  Her curt acknowledgement had not been enough to prevent the flash of recognition in his eyes, despite her being covered almost entirely in metal.

Armor did nothing to hide her distinct accent. The fact that Alistair had insisted on omitting her name and Teagan introduced her as 'An Honored Guest' had only fueled conjecture. Fenris noted the exchange and she was forced to explain in hasty whispers as soon as Geoffery was out of earshot. Luna avoided her old friend rather effectively for most of the day. If only it had remained so.

Fenris acted as a buffer for much of the unwanted attention from rabid social climbers. Anders, who hadn't been introduced to Court, nonetheless wore Warden colors while in attendance, and claimed her opposite side. They made an intimidating trio as they took up their places behind Alistair. The Templars didn't spare Anders a second glance, despite the obvious fact that he was a Mage. Luna had thought it bizarre, though Alistair's connection to the Wardens was well known.

_How can they just … dump all that Mage hating rhetoric because he's a Warden? I mean … why don't Apostates just pretend to be Wardens all the time. Huh, maybe they do._

Some guests did manage to brave speaking with her. Most of those would be hangers-on left her alone when she coolly informed them that she had no intention of asking Alistair for title or reward. She wasn't here to raise her status, only to support the new Heir. Her actions in defeating 'Bloody Mac Tir' were the talk of the celebration. The story had already mutated into something completely unrecognizable.

The King was crowned outside, a decision that met with disapproval from the ever protective Teagan. Luna thought it was a good idea but refrained from saying so. Alistair disregarded all protests, claiming that he would be a King of the People, and that they deserved to see him ascend the Throne. The Guard was doubled but he argued against all offers of personal attendants.  Luna had smiled, thinking of all their late night discussions and the impact her words had made on him.

He did concede to have Luna, Fenris, and Anders at his side for much of the proceedings. Standing before the giant double doors in the Royal Courtyard, Luna held her breath as he knelt before the ancient Chantry Official. A new crown had been commissioned at Alistair's request as he wanted nothing ornate. Instead he agreed to an elegant silver band but refused all other trappings of rank.

The moment the simple coronet was placed on his head was burned into her memory forever.

“Long Live the King!” someone shouted out, the sound easily carrying over the hushed crowd. He rose steadily to his feet, somehow seeming all the more regal for having knelt.

He had acknowledged her with a triumphant smile and a nod of the head before turning to the gathered throng. He drew his sword, raising it toward the sky. “Long Live Fereldan!” he called in a strong, clear voice, as cheering swept through the crowd. It quickly became a deafening chant of approval that shook the foundations of Denerim.

She'd almost forgotten about Geoffery when he casually called her by name at the banquet table later in the evening. Luna had thoughtlessly turned to meet his gaze and realized her mistake too late. He'd made a snide remark about the difficulty of eating while still wearing a helmet and excused himself. It wasn't until a snobbish woman with the fashion sense of a colorblind nug approached her in the ballroom that she realized what he was up to.

Geoffery had managed to slip her name to practically the entire Court, though he refrained from outright calling for her arrest. When she went to confront him several Templars ambushed her, knocking the helmet from her head, and grappling her to a kneeling position. As the **Silence** then **Smite** washed harmlessly over her she noted that Geoffery didn't even seem upset, instead calmly nodding to the nearby Bann that had made no effort to hide his hatred of her.  The disappointed Noble had stormed out in disgust.

Rage burned through her uncontrollably as she clenched her hands into fists, crushing the gauntlet of one of the Templars holding her as he yelled out in pain. Using her **Draconic Might** Luna broke free of the Templars, sending them crashing across the room. Geoffery didn't move, but never took his eyes from her.  She would willingly have murdered everyone in the room in that moment. It wasn't until Fenris' brands flared beside her, the Lyrium filling her with a soothing song, that she had calmed down. The patterns finally clicked as her mind cleared.

_That's the second time I've lost control to Templars. No … that's the THIRD time. Byron … I BEAT him to DEATH … and ... Fenris' Lyrium it … I can HEAR it._

Anders had also come to her aid, throwing a barrier over them all reflexively. Luna silently thanked Flemeth for all her harsh lessons as it held steady over her shimmering into place. He regarded her in surprise then turned a withering stare to the offending Templars. It was a miracle that Justice didn't make an entrance. Calmer heads prevailed … for now.  She was just glad Teagan had been able to contain everything so efficiently; declaring it proof of her non-Apostate status.

The last thing Alistair needed was more political strife before his Reign even properly began. She internally cursed them for insisting she be here. That no one else had made the connections between Luna 'Templar Murderess', Luna 'Elvhen Revolutionary', and Luna 'Honored Guest' was a miracle she didn't expect to last the night. The Templars responsible were escorted off the premises with assurances from both Geoffery and Chantry officials that they would be properly disciplined.  Her helmet was quietly returned to her.

_Yeah, right … and I've got a bridge to sell you. Those asshats were following orders. This was an unsanctioned TEST.  Why would he AGREE to this knowing I wouldn't ... unless he suspects I AM somehow affected._

She spent more time than she cared to smoothing things over with whomever Teagan directed her towards. To make matters worse Fenris simply wouldn't let up. He hounded her to be more careful, whispering to her harshly, at every opportunity. Unwilling to start a screaming match in view of every Noble in Fereldan she'd finally excused herself; with an apology to the newly crowned King. He'd exacted her promise to attend the dancing the following day and she'd unhappily agreed. Luna only knew two kinds of dancing, and neither of them were appropriate in a conservative medieval setting.

The elf followed her, once again acting as bodyguard, before joining her in his assigned room. It was closer than her own, and she didn't feel like walking any farther in her suffocating armor. The servants who had been preparing the chamber beat a hasty retreat with one fearful glance at them. Word of his brutal treatment of the unfortunate guards had already spread like wildfire. Coupled with Luna's now growing notoriety they were lucky the rooms were even tended.

_I'll probably be remembered as 'Queen Slayer.' How very 'Game of Thrones' of me. Jamie Lanister would be so proud. Ugh, the last thing I need is another moniker._

Luna began removing her mail, Fenris offering his help without a word, and she sighed in relief as the weight left her aching shoulders. He followed suit, deftly removing every spiky piece of his own and carefully setting it aside. In contrast she carelessly tossed hers near the armor stand. There would be time to set it properly later. Right now all she wanted was to relax.

Who would have thought a Coronation could run so long? Luna kicked off her shinguards and boots then stretched; trying to relieve the pain in her calves. Double checking that they were alone Fenris, who had already shed his armor, chose to continue his previous reprimands. Luna bit her tongue in an attempt control what she might say with her rising temper.

“It's not like I deliberately alerted Geoffery to who I was. I didn't even remove my helmet the entire time. I'm a **Shaman** not a Mage damnit,” she snapped.

Fenris threw the helmet in question towards the rest of her armor with more force than necessary. “Templars will not make that distinction. It was many months before I realized I'd misjudged you. What happened tonight will only encourage them to harry you at every opportunity.” Luna raised an eyebrow at him in characteristic fashion which she noted seemed to annoy him. “Now that they know you've returned to Fereldan they will not hesitate to make an example of you!”

“Are you hearing yourself Fenris? I thought you LIKED Templars.” Luna smirked at him which only served to further aggravate him. Luna tried to ignore the pit of disappointment in her gut. She had missed him terribly these last few months. Here they were, together at last, and all they did was fight.

_At least Fenris is arguing AGAINST the system. FINALLY._

As if hearing her unspoken thought Fenris growled out, “I acknowledge that they serve a function. You and I do not fall within that mandate.”

“Are you joking?! So it's okay for them to enslave MAGES, just not US? Are you listening to yourself?! You WERE as slave. What if I DID fall within their 'MANDATE'? I know you're afraid but Mages are not all Danarius! What about Anders?? He's saved our lives on more than one occasion and you KNOW it.”

“I am NOT afraid. I am cautious. As you should be! How do you not understand the inherent danger after all you've suffered? It's maddening.” Fenris was pacing the room as he grew more irritated. The air was heavy with all they were avoiding saying and he was practically oozing possessiveness. “Don't speak to me of the Abomination,” he growled.

_Is … is he JEALOUS? Of ANDERS??? That's ridiculous!_

He seemed to grow angrier at the reminder of her torture, as though it were a personal failure on his part. “Blood mages are not LIKE you and I. What will it take for you to …”

Luna groaned. “NOT THIS AGAIN! FUCKING … GODS Fenris. I'm FINE. Nothing happened. I'm not suddenly endorsing Blood Magic! Besides Alistair won't let them just cart me off! I'm a grown fucking woman, I can take care of myself!”

“That's highly debatable!"  Fenris paced the room in time with his questioning.  "How long before you disappear again? Who will abduct you this time? How was this Flemeth even aware of you? Perhaps ...”

“I survived quite well before I met you Fenris! As a matter of fact, the most danger I've been in lately has been in YOUR company!”

“OH, CLEARLY,” he said sarcastically. “The last time you were ALONE in Fereldan you only MURDERED a Templar which ...”

“An ASSHOLE TEMPLAR! A FILTHY MURDERING RAPIST!”

“MUST YOU INTERRUPT ME?! Be quiet for ONE …”

She had been removing her gauntlets but the ties were giving her trouble. Finally freeing herself she threw them at the nearest target. That target just happened to be Fenris' head. “Make me,” she snarled, finally having had enough of his attitude. He easily dodged the flying projectiles and they collided with the ornate red vase by the door. It shattered as it was knocked from the table, spilling flowers, and water across the floor.

Fenris closed the distance between them fast enough that she lost her footing. The expensive chair nearby suffered horribly as she tried to right herself; wood splintering as it fell over. He caught her about the waist to steady her, and she accidentally gripped his arms, making contact with the Lyrium in his skin. The tattoos flared brightly as Fenris leaned in closer to speak. "You are infuriating," he rumbled. An instant later he pulled her in close; tight against his body. As their lips collided they both were lost to something between passion and a battle of wills.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO it's kinda obvious ....
> 
> BEWARE INCOMING SMUT NEXT CHAPTER! MUAHAHAHahahaa.  
> Don't forget to comment. I'm not kidding when I say it motivates me to write faster :)


	40. EMBRACE*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't make ya'll wait another 2 days.
> 
> Normally I don't do warnings as I feel they can interrupt the flow of a work. However, this chapter is almost ENTIRELY SMUT. There is some introspection, small plot developments, and character development ... but really, its just dirty dirty smut. I make no apologies. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

**[**Nightsky**](https://open.spotify.com/track/692WzQOVroAAR4yq6ZPHgC?si=vz93WdHKSRy5ErrDFxnjtA)– Tracey Chattaway**

Fenris' lips were softer than she remembered as they moved along with hers seamlessly. Anything Luna was about to say was forgotten as she threw her arms around Fenris' neck to keep her balance. He clung to her fiercely, as if afraid she would suddenly vanish from his arms. Luna molded herself against him, her hands roaming of their own accord, settling themselves in his pale hair.

Higher thought took a back seat, as their tongues fought for supremacy. Even this seemed like a battle between them as he deepened the kiss. She responded hungrily, matching his every parry and thrust. Leaning his muscled body against hers; his hand gripped her thigh hard enough to mark her through the soft leather. She took the hint and wrapped the leg around him, eagerly seeking further contact.

They parted for a moment and stared at one another, both breathing heavily. This was insanity, the attraction between them had only grown. Why did this keep happening? As his mouth seized hers again, she found that in this moment, she really didn't care. He lifted his hand, trailing it down her neck languidly, sending delightful tingling throughout her body. It came to rest on one of her breasts, his thumb teasing her nipple, as he cupped her through her shirt.

She pulled the edge of his tunic up far enough to reach a hand under the offending garment. The Lyrium flared brighter as she traced one of his brands experimentally. He deepened the kiss, responding to her touch with something akin to desperation. Power flowed freely into her, sending waves of pleasure into her mind. Luna reached between them along the muscles of his torso before slipping a hand into his trousers as the glow subsided. She smiled into his kiss as he gave a satisfying groan.

Coming up for air she nibbled at the base of his ear, gently working her tongue towards the tip. Moaning in approval he crushed her against himself as though attempting to erase any space between their bodies. The warmth of his breath caressed the skin of her neck, sending thrilling ripples down her spine. Suddenly he stopped, dropping her leg to the floor. She whimpered, afraid he had come to his senses, and would finally end the madness between them.

"Bed. Now." he said, his voice thick with need. They would do this properly this time it seemed. Sweeping her into his arms he carried her towards the recently made bed. He practically threw her onto the neat blankets before joining her. Tearing the trousers off her, he discarded them aggressively, tossing them across the room.

They were quickly throwing the room into disarray and it would have been funny except that she could only focus on her all consuming need to feel him. She dropped her hidden daggers to the floor as he threw off his boots then began stripping her in earnest. He didn't bother unlacing her top, instead peeling it from her in one swift move, freeing her breasts from their bindings.

Fenris swallowed, looking down at her appreciatively, momentarily stunned. She made to sit up, but stopped short as he finished removing his tunic. Her breath caught in her throat as their rumpled clothing joined the discarded weapons. She had never seen Fenris naked before and couldn't help ogling him.

Luna's eyes followed the lines of his Lyrium brands, her eyes growing ever wider. The Lyrium accentuated every curve of his muscle, and she swallowed hard, as her heart skipped. Thin scars, some old, some new, lined his dusky skin. Judging by the way his eyes raked over her the admiration was mutual. She let her eyes drift downwards, emboldened by his reaction to her own appearance. Rising to her knees, she reached for his erection, gently wrapping her fingers around him as he let out a sigh.

"You're gorgeous," she breathed, voice heavy with lust. He was unable to form a coherent response as she began to move her hand. She increased the pressure of her fingers slowly, relishing the feel of its heavy weight in her hand. Luna abruptly found herself on her back as he loomed over her.

"And you're beautiful," he said taking one of her swarthy nipples into his mouth. She arched towards him with a cry, urging him on. He moved to the other breast as his hand traveled down her stomach driving her to raise her hips. Already flushed from his earlier attentions, she crested almost immediately, as his hand found its way between her folds. Fenris's fingers did not cease their questing even as she shuddered from the first waves of absolute bliss.

One, then two fingers found her opening and he guided them inside, his thumb resting on her sensitive center. Luna bit her lip in an attempt to stifle herself as he began moving his hand in steady rhythm. She was drenched. His thumb rubbed her with every dip of his fingers, and she leaned towards him seeking delicious friction.

Fenris roughly turned her over until she was on her hands and knees. Grasping her hips for leverage, he nudged her legs farther apart, and with unbelievable restraint entered her slowly. "So, tight ..." he whispered leaning over her. Her breath hitched as he withdrew from her, almost completely, then pressed himself firmly back into her heat.

He did this several more times, each time pressing farther, until he made one final push and she took him in fully. Objecting to the sudden stillness, Luna began grinding her hips, grinning when he gave a choked gasp. He let her lead, slowly at first, grasping one of her breasts as she took her pleasure from him. It wasn't enough.

"Harder!" she rasped and suddenly he knotted his fingers through her hair, pulling it in rhythm, as he drove into her. Luna began to lose herself in sensation, all her focus on the feel of him … she was so close. The lavish room echoed with their exclamations, and she would have been embarrassed, but was overcome as she climaxed again. There was no pause in his thrusts and she welcomed them eagerly. She wanted more and he obliged. They were insatiable.

Fenris continued his relentless pace, pounding into her like an animal. He clutched her by the rear, and lifted her onto his lap to face him. She made to protest as she felt him slip from her during the move but he plunged back into her depths immediately. Her cries grew louder as he pressed deeper into her, changing the angle of his thrusts.

She clung to him, trying to match his pace, and meeting it with her own ferocity as she clawed at his back. Leaning her backwards he pushed her shoulders down into the bed, lifting her hips, and took full control. He reached between them, his hand seeking where they were still joined and Luna came apart around him, screaming his name with a feral yowl.

The Lyrium that marked his skin began to glow and he increased his speed as his body caged hers. Fenris began chanting her name, quietly, like a prayer. As the power from the Lyrium was absorbed into her, she hummed, pleasure coursing through her entire being. Her eyes began to blaze with an inner light. She wasn't sure how long they were lost in the magics that entwined them.

The effect of the Lyrium bond on Fenris' control was immediate. There was no holding back his own finish and he slammed home in response as she shattered again. He called out her name and she returned the sentiment, clinging to him for dear life. The feeling of his seed filling her was familiar and she welcomed the sensation, still lost in a fog of pleasure. She collapsed, every limb spent, and glanced up to search her lover's face.

Fenris held himself above her, looking deeply into her radiant eyes as they both attempted to calm themselves. It felt like her heart was trying to escape her ribs with every thunderous beat. His green eyes were boring into hers, and she was unable to look away. The light from her eyes faded as did the brilliance of his tattoos. The silence was broken only by their rasping breaths and Luna waited patiently. She had no idea what the elf was thinking.

He caressed her face softly and she placed a tentative hand over his. She felt him softening inside her as he leaned in close and stole a feather soft kiss from her lips. It was like a question, and she answered in kind. It was gentle, his exploration of her mouth somehow more sensual than their previous antics. She took her time, enjoying this new facet of Fenris.

Releasing her lips, he removed himself, and finally collapsed beside her. Still breathing raggedly they laid there together, saying nothing. Something had been different this time, Luna was sure of it. He didn't pull away from her and she could feel his heart pounding loudly. Luna reached for the nearby washbasin and she and Fenris took the time to gently clean themselves.

Glancing around the room she tried to find her belongings so that she could quietly leave. It looked like a hurricane had torn through the room. There would be no concealing what had happened from any unfortunate servants that entered. She was startled when Fenris snuffed the candle, and gathered her into his arms. Too exhausted to argue, and pleasantly surprised, she drifted into blissful sleep.

* * * * *

Fenris started awake at the sound of someone gasping, dropping their burdens, then hurriedly exiting the room. He was used to such reactions, there was no hiding what Danarius' magics had wrought on his skin. He was still groggy but realized it must be very early morning as it was still dark. He wondered how he had managed to rest for so long undisturbed and realized that one of his arms was asleep.

Fenris couldn't remember having ever slept so well. There had been no pain or nightmares wrenching him awake, though he remembered having a rather pleasant dream involving Luna. He began to stretch out his tingling limb when he noticed there was an added weight pressing on him. Warm flesh burrowed closer to him as he attempted to move, and his eyes flew open. Surprise chased away the drowsiness from his sleep fogged mind.

His entire body bore the evidence of having bedded something wild. He supposed he should be grateful she'd blunted her nails prior to the coronation. A blush rose to the tips of his ears as he remembered all they had done together. She was as marked as he was, including new finger shaped bruises on her her silken skin. He couldn't believe that she hadn't stopped his forward conduct, or that she had met him in kind.

_She stayed. You couldn't be bothered to just SPEAK with her … and still she stayed._

He had thought it no more than another vivid dream. Yet here lay one of the most frustrating and captivating women he had ever known. The room was still permeated with their mingling scents; the heady perfume lingering in the bedclothes. He wasn't exactly sure what had come over him as they had reenacted the same tired argument.

The kiss had been a last ditch attempt to silence her combative behavior. He'd intended it to do nothing more than shut her up. Their kiss had only resulted in the both of them being much louder, though in an admittedly pleasant fashion. In retrospect he acknowledged that he had been hoping for just such a result.

_I wanted her. I still do. Fool._

It had become more of a habit really, prodding her into a fight. Her face had been flushed with anger, her exotic eyes flashing with an inner heat, daring him to tame it. He normally welcomed the challenge, but last night ... something had been different, he was sure of it. He hadn't just wanted to sate some base urge with her. Though he had behaved as if he were marking his territory like some feral beast. It shamed him, but he couldn't bring himself to rue his actions.

Fenris had been worried when the Lyrium embedded in his skin had flared during their ... energetic activities. What they had done couldn't be called love making. It had been an extension of their argument. His brands were almost always painful, but as with each of their previous encounters involving the marks, he had been inundated with waves of … pleasure.

It had always been painful when Danarius drew on the Lyrium. He had no doubt that it had been deliberate if his experiences with Luna were anything to go by. Everyone, including Luna, assumed she was causing him some kind of discomfort, and he had seen no reason to correct them. Small flashes of memory, gone in an instant, had teased at his mind in that first encounter.

For a brief moment he had known who he was, had been fully aware of his past. They had fled his mind the moment their connection was severed. The first time it had happened he had nearly been overwhelmed by the sensation. He'd been sure she was a tempting trap sent by Danarius to lure him with false hope. The anger that festered within him had poisoned even this.

C _ould we have begun differently? Could she have ever … cared for me ..._

The woman in his arms could never have been a pawn for a creature like his former Master. Fenris knew that without any doubt now. Luna was infuriating when she wanted to be, and he had often given her cause. Her faults were many, but her virtues were as yet uncounted. Slavery, in any form, was something she despised with every fiber of her being. She had endured his rudeness, suspicion, and hostility from the beginning. Yet another thing he had to atone for.

Danarius had coveted her, as much as he'd coveted Fenris' markings. _**'Cormelos'**_ he had named her, gloating over the many uses he would find for such a slave. The Blood Mage had taken great pains to explain just what he'd make of Luna if captured. He was glad that she hadn't been present when he ended the disgusting Mage's life.

Facing down the Magister had done more than conjure his revulsion, it had teased unpleasant memory to the forefront of his mind. Hadriana had been a constant torment for him, and recollections of her would no doubt plague Luna as well. He lightly traced the whip scars that marred her otherwise perfect skin with his fingers.

Fenris would spare Luna revisiting unpleasant reminders of Blood Mages for as long as possible. He was fairly certain she would be disapointed by his sudden need to protect her. Luna didn't like the appearance of weakness, especially in herself. He would have to tell her that he'd executed his so called sister eventually. Perhaps her visions had shown her the truth of the matter. The next realization hit him like a hammer blow.

_I trust her … I shouldn't, but I do._

Luna heaved a sigh as she skirted the edge of wakefulness. He hoped she would sleep a little longer. When she awoke she would no doubt decry the entire experience as another mistake. They were almost always fighting, though he recognized that he had been deliberately abrasive. He wanted this, for just a little while longer, before he spoiled it. He brought her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair, but stilled when he felt her arch her back in a stretch.

He held his breath as she unconsciously ground against his pelvis. She hummed a soft sigh reminiscent of their previous night together. The sound caused his breath to quicken and he felt his body beginning to awaken for her. She was still half asleep, unaware of the sweet torture she inflicted on him. Her dreams must have been echoing their night together as she began gyrating and he felt himself harden in response.

He gently placed a hand on her hip, guiding her to slow the motion in an attempt at self control. She chuckled, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder, and he hid his surprise. Far from being reticent, she reached back to take him in hand, forcing a lusty groan from his lips.

Judging by the smile on her face, she relished the control she was exerting on him, and turned to fully face him. Far be it from him to deny her something she so obviously enjoyed. As she licked, nibbled, and sucked her way down his neck he didn't bother hiding his sighs of pleasure. He gave a hiss as her hand cupped his length, pressing upwards and downwards, as she guided him to lay on his back.

Working her way down his chest, and then still lower, she licked and kissed his stomach. It was maddening, though he was certain he knew what she had planned. When she reached his groin she paused, her breath ghosting over him. He grunted in frustration and grasped the sheets, tangling them about his hands. "Good Morning,” she said with a devious grin. Leaning down, she licked him from base to tip, and he forgot to respond. Then she took him fully into her mouth. He threw his head back, mouth open in a silent cry, and fought the urge to buck into her. He had never imagined anything could feel like THIS.

_How is she managing this without injuring me with her teeth?_

Her mouth was hot, her tongue lapping over him in time with her bobbing head. He ceased to be able to think at all when she began applying suction. Her soft lips, and what she was adeptly doing to him, became his singular focus. He fought with himself, endeavoring not to rut into her throat. Instead he reached up and buried his fingers in her hair in an attempt at grounding his senses. No one had ever performed such on act on him, and she was quickly bringing him to his finish.

"If you do not ... cease woman ..." he choked out, trying to warn her. Slowing down she brushed a stray lock of dark hair behind her oddly pointed ear. Taking notice immediately, lust forgotten, he forced her to stop. Her face was red with exertion, lips swollen, but he had eyes only for that unexpected ear. It was wider at the base than an elven ear, and covered in a fine layer of silver-white fur. He caressed her, finding it to be as soft as it looked and traced it to the tip, causing her to shiver.

_THIS is what she's been … what IS she?_

Her eyes widened in realization as she quickly shot up to a sitting position all ardor forgotten. She turned away from him, fear quickly replacing the confidence she had earlier exuded. He considered her reaction and instantly regretted his own. Luna appeared ready to bolt, and he decided in that moment, that he would have none of it. It didn't matter. Gripping her hips he dragged her into his lap, still facing away from him. "Fenris I ..."

He quickly interrupted anything else she may have said; lightly biting the ear she had managed to keep hidden all this time. She gasped, going limp in his arms, as he lavished attention on the obviously sensitive flesh. He slipped his hand between her legs seeking the hooded center that would urge her on. She was more than prepared for him as he aligned himself to her entrance, but he paused, silently asking permission to continue. At her insistent nod he guided himself into her encompassing warmth.

Kneading her breast with his other hand he timed his thrusts to coincide with every flick of his fingers across her. She cried out with every pump of his hips and he was just as vocal. Shuddering, she finally peaked and he knew he was lost. He would do anything to hear this again, to feel her as she came undone around him, to sow his seed within her. He reveled in every sigh, every exclamation, every whispered entreaty. Why she had hidden this about herself didn't matter, only that he needed to keep her here.

She surprised him by taking control again, fear evaporating with her need for further completion. He fell back on the bed as she continued to ride him, his hands helping to move her in a steady rhythm. His breath came harder as she leaned forward, her arms on the bed, revealing her delectable backside. She rocked her hips forward as he lifted her and he felt his control slip.

Blue light filled the dark room once again as Luna stilled. Both lost themselves to the pleasure of her abilities linking with his own. He swore he could feel the hum of music coursing through him, though he could not define the tune. Emptying himself inside her with a hoarse cry; he pulsed as she settled around him. Her body shook with her own release, as the power of his markings dissipated once more, plunging the room back into shadow.

After taking time to recover she fell beside him with a huff and muttered something unintelligible face down into the sheets. She peered up from them hesitantly; oddly shy considering what they had just been doing. Crawling back to him, she settled with her head at his shoulder, sweat glistening on her bronze skin. He caressed her ear tenderly, and she said nothing, simply curled herself against him tighter.

“I would ask why … “

“You already thought I was an Abomination. Telling you I was something … other? Didn't seem like a good idea …”

“I … I wish I could say you were wrong to hide them from me,” he said, frowning slightly.

Luna sighed, her fingers lightly tracing his own ear. “Don't apologize. I should be the one apologizing. I don't … I'm not good at this.”

“This?”

“Feelings,” she said burying her face in his shoulder.

Fenris changed the subject, as much for himself as for her. “They suit you,” he said with a chuckle.

She looked at him gratefully then lifted a leg, softly draping it over him. "I'm so glad you approve of my **anatomy**."

"Does **ahna-toe-me** mean your rather shapely ears?" he asked smirking.

"Oh, it means,” she lightly nibbled her bottom lip as she struggled to translate. It was extremely distracting when she did that and he resisted the urge to reach out and stop her. “... the way a person, ummm, is built? How a living being is … ummm put together? Their body,” she waved her hand over herself uncertainly. “... parts."

Pinching the sloping tip of her ear he was gratified to hear her squawk in surprise. "In that case, I greatly approve of your _**flaispeth**_. If you doubt me I could endeavor to prove it to you all over again." He couldn't help feeling little smug at her sudden intake of breath.

He flinched, making a somewhat less than masculine squeak, when he felt her pinch his behind. "Turnabout is fair play." she said with a tongue touched grin.

Closing his eyes in contentment, Fenris let his hand fall to her back, his fingers rubbing patterns against her flawed skin. "Yes. Yes it is."

_Luna may not have been a trap of Danarius' making, but she has ensnared me nonetheless._

“What is this Fenris?” she whispered, listening to the drum of his heart.

He didn't know how to answer at first. What WAS this thing between them? He struggled to find the right words. He kissed her then, needing the feel of her, and finally whispered in return, “A choice.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Common/Trade Tongue:  
>  flaispeth: **piece of flesh**
> 
> Tevene:  
>  Cormelos : **heart of melody**
> 
> Nightly – Tracey Chattaway  
>  https://open.spotify.com/track/692WzQOVroAAR4yq6ZPHgC?si=vz93WdHKSRy5ErrDFxnjtA


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment! :) I enjoy hearing from all of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Fereldan celebrations consisted of feasting, some impromptu dancing, and more feasting apparently. If it hadn't been for the dress they tried to stuff her in she might have actually attended. It would have been far more to her liking than anything she'd read or seen of the Orlesian affairs. Apparently with her 'demasking' the previous evening Teagan saw no reason to keep her hidden anymore. 

Alistair knew she detested wearing frippery and when the seamstresses had descended on her against her will with a Royal Decree she had known EXACTLY who to blame. Fenris had sent a servant for Anders almost immediately on seeing her reaction. She was confused until after the tide of fashion conscious estrogen departed the room in a flurry. 

When Anders arrived, burdened with their full packs, they'd immediately snuck out a window and she hoped Alistair wouldn't be too angry with her. She left a short note to the newly crowned King, begging his pardon for not attending what was sure to be an excellent party. She promised to write, and visit as often as permissible. If he hadn't wanted her to escape he shouldn't have threatened her with that ridiculous gown. 

Somehow they evaded the guards and found themselves alone in the empty Throne room. Imagine her surprise when Alistair, sans entourage, was waiting for them grinning from ear to ear as they exited the secret passage. “Well look who we have here! Could our illustrious hero be attempting to renege on her promise to dance with me?!” 

Luna pursed her lips in mock seriousness and crossed her arms. “Hrmm. I believe you rendered our agreement null and void when you broke paragraph three, subsection four, explicitly stating my aversion to all things dress shaped.” 

He snorted as he laughed, hugging her tightly, and spun them around several times. “Forgive me! How could I have been so careless??!?" 

“ACK! Put me DOWN!” He set her on her feet only when she was sufficiently dizzy and they were both giggling like children as she stumbled. “Fereldan is doomed, their King is an idiot,” she declared. 

“HeY,” Alistair exclaimed with a grimace. 

Anders looked thoroughly amused saying, “I can't speak for the gloomy elf, but If you're headed towards premature execution, please leave me out of It.” 

Turning to face Luna, the King grinned, saying, “This idiot has a present for you.” Alistair handed her something, obscuring it from the view of the others. They whispered back and forth, Luna growing more animated with each word. It wasn't until Fenris and Anders turned and left with a huff of frustration that they dropped what they'd been discussing. 

They chatted pleasantly as they made their way through the hidden path saying their farewells. Alistair was in a rather flimsy disguise, namely none, and it was only a matter of time before someone came to retrieve him. Luna frowned as they approached the **_Vhenadahl_ ** and gaped when it came fully into view. 

The sacred elven tree was not only free of the corpses she'd encountered on her way to save Alistair, but was fully fruited and alive. There were also several hundred saplings taking root across the abandoned Alienage. 

Alistair seemed unsurprised and nodded appreciatively. “You really outdid yourself this time Luna. The music could be heard for miles. Your legend is only going to keep growing if you don't stop performing mira ...” he trailed off when he saw her face. 

“What music,” Fenris asked. 

Luna glanced around in puzzlement; searching for an explanation. “I … this wasn't … I didn't do this Alistair. I thought … maybe you had the bodies cleared out?" 

He shook his head as Anders examined the tree using a spell she was unfamiliar with. “No. This … are you sure this wasn't you? It happened last night after you left the feast. I assumed that's where you two had vanished to.” 

Luna flushed remembering what she had ACTUALLY been doing on the night in question. Fenris plucked a piece of fruit from the tree with a frown. It appeared to be a very large apple, and Luna swallowed nervously at the symbolic image it conjured. She may not have been a follower of the One God, but it didn't mean she didn't know the story of Eden. 

_Pfft. Of course most of their 'believers' don't even realize the fruit in question was a pomegranate, not an apple. It's known as the 'bloodfruit' for fucks sake._

Alistair interrupted her dogmatic meandering saying, “Wait. How didn't you hear it? I sent troops to investigate and everything.” Fenris blushed to the tips of his ears as he cleared his throat and threw the fruit to Luna. Alistair definitely noticed the elf's blush if not hers and thankfully dropped it. 

_ No … that's not an apple … it looks like a pear. _

The perfectly round, mottled tan fruit was achingly familiar. It was unlike the classically shaped pears sold in most groceries in the United States. Even when she'd been lucky enough to find them stateside, they had been stunted, tiny things. A true Korean pear was big enough it barely fit into her hand. This one evoked her early childhood memories of the overcrowded back-alley markets of Seoul.

She studied the large fruit with her Magesight and found nothing remarkable. Throwing caution to the wind, she ignored the worried protests of the others and used her dagger to cut a slice. The tantalizing and familiar aroma assailed her the moment she pierced it. Peeling away the inedible skin, she consumed the oversized morsel. Juice escaped the corners of her mouth as she savored the surprisingly sweet flavor. The texture was perfectly crisp but the meat of the fruit held fluid like a watermelon. Chewing methodically her eyes widened in disbelief. 

“Is something wrong?” Anders asked, observing her intently, probably looking for possible poisoning. 

“This … it's … this actually IS a **_pear_**!” She may have hopped a little bit in excitement. 

They stared at her, uncomprehending of the significance. “It's not native to Thedas as far as I know.  It's a fruit from my mother's homeland. It shouldn't be possible for it to BE here, let alone magically growing in the Denerim Alienage ...” Luna was at a loss. “You don't understand. This is my FAVORITE fruit!” 

They all glanced at the tree as Luna groaned.  She closed her eyes, savoring every bite. The King of Fereldan grabbed his own, biting directly into the Asian pear with relish, despite the gritty peel. Anders joined him; their Warden appetites soon making quick work of a dozen of them. 

Fenris gathered more of the fruit, stuffing it into his pack without a word. 

_ * * * * * _

Luna breathed in the fresh sea air with a happy sigh. She was currently hanging over the side of HER ship, much to the consternation of 'CAPTAIN' Turrik, via a lengthy piece of rope. He still insisted the seafaring vessel belonged to HIM, though why he followed her commands was baffling if that were the case. She dipped her hand in the swift moving waters of the Waking Sea. Thinking of the brooding elf that had left the deck in disgust at her antics she smiled. She had never felt so free. 

Hauling herself up the side she found Anders waiting for her with a lopsided grin. “I think you've upset him.” 

“Pfft. He'll get over it. This is the first time in weeks I haven't either been trapped or facing down death. 

“I don't think the Coronation was in danger of killing any of us.” 

“Speak for yourself,” she muttered. 

“PORT HO,” a sailor yelled from the crow's nest, startling them both. 

Luna spun around and sure enough Kirkwall was looming in the distance. Apprehension filled her suddenly and Anders seemed to sense it. “We won't let the Templars touch you Luna. Of that you have my word.” 

“I know I just … maybe returning to Kirkwall was selfish.” 

“We both have unfinished business here. Selfish or not there wasn't much choice in coming back.” 

Luna grinned, “Then it's high time we finished it.  Then you can come with me to find that cure.” She nudged him playfully saying, “ I'm sure Hawke is eager to see you again.” 

Anders surprised her then, dropping his voice suggestively. “Oh, I'm sure I can make up for my absence.” Luna was gratified to see Anders had missed Hawke. She'd known they would be a good match, foreknowledge aside, they simply had great chemistry. Hopefully the others hadn't caused too much trouble in their absence. She would be playing catch up, though that may have been to the good of Thedas. Luna was already changing things and hadn't exactly decided where she would draw the line. 

They were still laughing and trading salacious gossip about their respective partners when Fenris tossed them their packs. Walking up to her the elf gently draped his cloak about her shoulders and took her hand. He then pressed his forehead to hers and she closed her eyes, enjoying his proximity. It was probably the only apology she was going to get. Anders cleared his throat meaningfully and Fenris chuckled saying, “As much as I wish to continue , we have a city to sneak you into.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I don't know if you've noticed Fenris, but we're not exactly inconspicuous. What good is giving this to me going to do?" 

“You and the Abomination will make use of my … very notable presence, as a distraction. I am not currently being hunted. You are.” 

Luna blinked at that. “Oh. I guess I missed Danarius dying then. Well … that's a little disappointing.” She frowned thinking of all the other things she may have missed while trapped in Fereldan. At least Varric would be willing to fill in the blanks for her with very little convincing. Of course now she'd have to parse through the stories to pick out the truth in his embellished versions. 

Her companions seemed surprised by her reaction. “Oh?” Fenris asked a little too casually. He was still uncomfortable talking about her 'visions' and Luna hadn't pressed the issue. 

_There's a conversation I wish I could avoid. I wonder if they'll just … take it on faith when I warn them about things from now on, or if I'll get the third degree._

Sighing she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I would have enjoyed seeing you gut that waste of life.” She paused for a moment then started rambling. “Thedas seems to have made me bloodthirsty, but if anyone deserved to be gutted it was Danarius. I guess I just wish I'd seen it … in person that is. Sorry, I'm not trying to make light of ...” 

“It is done. I was better prepared for it because of your cryptic warnings. Let it be enough.” Fenris squeezed her hand, then pulled the hood of the cloak over her head. “Turrik will show you the smuggler's exit. I will be here, being as conspicuous as possible.” 

Luna sighed dramatically and brought something out from her pack. It appeared to be a scroll of some kind, and she lightly tapped Fenris on the nose with it much to his irritation. 

“What is that?” Anders asked in confusion. 

“This, was my present from Alistair my good Ser.” She gave them a wide grin. “All this sneaking around is REALLY unnecessary.” 

Fenris' eyes widened as he noticed the Royal Fereldan Seal. “Is that ...” he asked in disbelief and exasperation. “I thought you asked for no boon." 

“I didn't HAVE to ask. It was his Majesty's suggestion." 

“A gift indeed. You are both devious … and dangerous.” The elf smirked at her with his arms crossed. 

“You know you like it.” Luna tossed the roll of vellum in one hand, flipping it end over end, with a smirk of her own. 

Anders rolled his eyes, grabbing the parchment in question out of the air as Luna squeaked in protest. “Flirt on your own time. I swear you two are worse every day.” She stuck her tongue out at him and stole it back. Gazing over the water as Kirkwall grew nearer she anxiously licked her lips to wet them. Despite her confident front she really had no idea if the authorities of Kirkwall would cooperate with this latest ploy. This was truly dangerous, like everything else in her life had been lately. Still it was the better option as she had grown weary of skulking in the shadows. 

Fenris took her hand then saying, “I will stand by your side. You need only ask. I will not allow them to harm you.” 

She squeezed his hand in return staring at the chained 'Twins of Kirkwall' as they grew serious. “I would never ask you to walk into certain death Fenris. If things go poorly … go to Hawke. He has more pull in Kirkwall than he realizes. I won't have you killing yourself in some noble gesture.” 

“You cannot ask me to ...” 

“I CAN, and I AM.” Luna said firmly. He was glaring at her again, but they didn't have time for another argument. Instead she surprised him with a kiss and as he gently leaned into it she felt his aura soothe, calming her in turn. “I'm not asking you to abandon me. Just … don't do anything rash.” 

“Very well.” His expression was grim as he turned to watch the approach, releasing her hand. 

“Is that Aveline,” Anders blurted in surprise. Sure enough the Captain stood waiting at attention with a contingent of the Guard at parade rest behind her. As Luna stepped from the gangplank Aveline strode crisply towards her; snapping back to attention once the women were face to face. Luna could sense more than see Anders gaping at the Guard Captain like a landed fish. 

“Lady Ambassador. Welcome to Kirkwall. King Alistair's raven gave little time to prepare for your arrival.” Luna could tell it was taking all of the woman's willpower to maintain a strict sense of decorum. 

_Alistair you assclown. What the hell have you stirred up this time._

“Think nothing of it Guard Captain. I'm sure you did your best under the circumstances,” she replied without missing a beat. She was suddenly very glad that Teagan's tailors had provided her with an upgraded wardrobe. This was turning out to be much more formal than she'd bargained for. Luna placed the Royal Proclamation in Aveline's outstretched palm. She did a quick inspection then promptly handed it back to Luna. 

“Everything seems to be in order, but I'm sure you would like to address any concerns to Seneschal Cavin. We would be happy to escort you to the Viscount's Keep.” 

Luna hummed in annoyance. “I was rather hoping to get a drink first. It's been a long journey.” 

Aveline didn't seem surprised and dropped her efficient demeanor for a moment. She glanced at Anders and nodded with a look of concern. “I'm sure Hawke would appreciate the company. He's hardly left the Hanged Man since … well … that is probably a story best left for him to relay.” 

Before Luna could say anything Anders took his leave of them in a hurry. The Guard formed up around Luna and Fenris at Aveline's order, acting as an honor Guard, as they briskly followed him. Fenris gazed warily at the Guards, obviously uncomfortable with their presence. “We are capable of walking a few yards without your assistance Aveline,” he voiced in irritation. 

Luna wasn't sure, but she swore she heard the Captain mutter something that sounded like 'I wouldn't be so sure.' Aveline's wary posture, and the alertness of the Guards struck her as very odd. Was the Captain expecting an ambush? Who would dare something like that in broad daylight? She began to scan the crowded docks for signs of trouble, but only saw the regular workers. 

Just as the Hanged Man came within view Luna's blood ran cold. Anders had come to a screeching halt, and what blocked his path was anything but friendly. Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford stood at the head of a dozen or more Templar Knights. His hand rested easily on the pommel of his sword and he looked very determined. 

Aveline didn't seemed phased in the least, though Luna saw her knuckles whiten as she gripped her sword. “What business have you blocking the City Guard, Knight-Captain?  Stand aside.” 

“We've come to take this ... woman, out of your hands Captain. The Warden and his elven friend are free to go.” 

“Over my dead body,” Aveline snarled. At her declaration swords were drawn on the part of the Templars, and the Guards followed suit. “You have no jurisdiction here. Lady  ** _Söng_** is a foreign dignitary and is to be escorted to the Keep forthwith.” Luna internally grimaced at the allusion Alistair had created to music while choosing a surname for her.  The fact it was pronounced like her mother's maiden name was doubly ironic. The tension between the two groups of soldiers was palpable and violence threatened to break at any moment. Luna remained calm. Though her hands itched to reach for her own blades she refrained. 

Cullen glared at her in accusation. “LADY ... **_Söng_**. I was led to believe she held no titles.” 

“LUNA is now the personal friend of the newly crowned King of Fereldan. One Alistair Theirin,” Luna chimed in cheerily. “I'm an envoy sent to negotiate new terms with the City-state of Kirkwall on his behalf. I've also been pardoned ...” 

“Be QUIET Luna,” Fenris urged near her ear. She was gratified to see that he hadn't drawn his weapon either. 

The look Cullen flashed her was a mixture of surprise and apprehension. “What is this,” he asked glaring at Aveline. “Commander Meredith demands that this woman be apprehended for crimes against the Order. I understood you had been informed.” 

Aveline shook her head, sternly saying, “I think I've more than made it clear what Commander Meredith can do with her orders. I answer to the Viscount, and failing that the City of Kirkwall and the laws that govern her. I am NOT some lackey running errands for the Templar Order. When exactly IS she going to ALLOW the choosing of the next Viscount?  Or have you another excuse to pass on for her?” Aveline sounded positively victorious as she finished her tirade. 

Cullen looked sufficiently scolded, but only just. That was when Luna saw it, the conflict raging inside a once good man. He looked tired in that moment and the bags under his eyes had grown worse since she'd last seen him. The Knight-Captain rubbed the bridge of his nose then gritted his teeth, gesturing at the parchment still clutched in Luna's hand. “May I examine the Writ to verify its authenticity?” 

Aveline cautiously lowered her blade, nodding at her men to do the same. “By all means. So long as you don't intend to leave with it ... or HER. It must be promptly filed with the Seneschal, as I'm sure you're aware. We are a city of LAWS, and I will see that they are adhered to.” 

Cullen sighed as he gently traced the Fereldan Monarch's wax seal with a finger. He neatly rolled the parchment and handed it back to Luna. “My Lady. I apologize for delaying you.” 

“But ser,” a nameless Templar protested. 

Making a cutting off motion with his hand Cullen continued, “The Lady has been granted Pardon and Title. I will make report to the Commander myself, it is out of my hands.” He turned to Luna and gave a respectful nod. The Templars made way for them reluctantly, but none dared disobey. As she passed he sighed, “I'm from Fereldan … I … what I mean is ... “ 

Luna took pity on him. “You're welcome … Knight-Captain.” She had always liked the man he later chose to be. It bothered her that they were at odds. Perhaps she would find a way to befriend him after all. “You're a good man Rutherford,” she said sincerely. He looked confused, but she didn't elaborate.  They marched past the Hanged Man.  Business would have to come before pleasure it seemed. Anders managed to slip away and she smiled. At least one of them would be getting a happy homecoming.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Söng : **song**


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter is late, long story short we had another hospital scare. Don't worry, I'll always be back, I refuse to leave this tale unfinished.
> 
> I also can't believe we've broken 6k hits!!! *squeals in excitement* You guys are awesome!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Everything Luna knew about politics pointed to one very terrifying fact, and that was that people were willing to commit any atrocity if it meant keeping an advantage. It didn't matter the era, the culture, or the country, many were willing to kill to keep the power they had amassed. If they could get away with it, they would do it. All one had to do to understand this was to examine her native language. Cliche sayings including 'cut throat executives' or 'Don't kill the messenger' riddled English vernacular. Most people used them without any thought as to their origins … Luna was NOT most people. 

She was currently contemplating the latter concerning messengers. It was a concept explored by the Greek Philosopher Sophocles then again later by Shakespeare. It boiled down to an admonition to place blame with the guilty party rather than the person delivering the news. The specific words could change, but the idea remained the same. This however brought Luna around to her own pet theory about the actual origins. It could be assumed that an ancient King or tribal leader had once truly committed this act … the question was … why? 

The common portrayal was that the messenger in question was killed during a tantrum. Luna's mind drew a more complicated conclusion. If the message contained news that could have stopped a war he wanted, or possibly cleared up a misunderstanding he was taking political advantage of, it would have been expedient to rid himself of the hapless messenger. This fictional King could then claim, that the messenger never arrived, and proceed with whatever diabolical plan he had in the works while appearing lawfully or morally in the right. 

She was becoming keenly aware of all this as a growing number of people followed her progression towards the Keep. The Templar Commander, Meredith, had seized power during the Qunari invasion and was slowly reaching for more; all while going mad from exposure to her shiny, new, Red Lyrium sword. She had ordered the City Guard to arrest Luna, and Aveline had refused to do so. 

If Luna were to be assassinated now, Alistair's intentions would be left unclear until a new Ambassador could be sent, and it would leave Fereldan vulnerable. That was if he could convince anyone else to take the position. It would also leave Kirkwall with less incentive to elect a new leader, and more reason to fear they might be targeted as well. That fear would keep Meredith in charge of the city. Fereldan could not afford to appear weak while Orlesian Nobles still clamored for their conquest in some misguided attempt to regain lost glory. It was imperative this be resolved before the Templars and Mages inevitably rebelled against the Chantry.  


_I hate my brain sometimes. At this rate I'm going to die from self induced stress … or at least develop an ulcer._

They were almost to the large staircase leading to the Viscount's Keep, which she had avoided since her last ignoble meeting with them, when her eyes were drawn again to the multiplying throng. Luna stared at Aveline with sudden understanding and newfound respect as they approached their destination. The Guard Captain's grasp of the situation was far more astute than Luna would have previously given her credit for. It was brilliant really. 

Aveline had met Luna at the docks not only to prevent her capture by the Templars, but to create a spectacle everyone was sure to see. She was actually preventing Luna's potential assassination by allowing as many people as possible the opportunity to see their arrival. Kirkwall was in a precarious position, the death of the Viscount had left them open to attack on at least three separate fronts. They needed these treaties as much as Alistair did to stabilize the region. 

“Perhaps you would like to say a few words Lady Ambassador? Something to the effect of Fereldan's intentions?” Aveline politely gestured towards the speaking platform. “It will help to cut down on malicious rumors, and I'm sure the Seneschal will appreciate having less people approaching him over the coming days based on snippets of outlandish gossip.” Aveline nodded encouragingly at her when she blinked in surprise. 

_No WONDER Aveline thrives here even as a foreigner. She may not know how to woo a partner, and she's too blunt for her own good, but she's definitely observant. That or she is getting some REALLY good orders from Seneschal Bran Cavin._

Luna gave her a shaky smile saying, “May I take a moment to prepare?” This was NOT something she had planned for and she found herself suffering from a small case of stage fright.  Her heart was racing and she needed to collect her thoughts.  


“Of course, but only a moment. I'll have my men make an appropriately long announcement.  Alistair had some choice Titles he included in his missive and I was advised to use them. It should give you more than enough time.” She gave her a look full of sympathy, turning to give orders, and Luna suddenly felt a little more at ease. Aveline's brusque manner reminded her why she had admired the woman for so long. It was refreshing to know that you knew exactly where you stood with Aveline. 

Fenris stayed a respectful distance behind her and she suddenly wished he would simply stand beside her … but Luna knew it would be a disaster. The current climate of bigotry made it impossible.  Rumors were one thing, but flaunting her relationship with the him could jeopardize everything she was trying to achieve. That he instinctively knew this both warmed her and filled her with great sadness. She reaffirmed her mission to change things even if it killed her. 

She knew that Hawke was teaching Fenris to read, but Danarius had ensured that, while still illiterate, the former slave was highly educated. He had treated the elf like a prized pet, and it made her sick to think there were elves still trapped as slaves or second class citizens all across Thedas. His grounding in Qunlat and Qunari custom had no doubt helped solidify his Master's control over the amnesiac. 

Life roles were clearly defined for the Qunari, and change of that role was impossible. If you were deemed a baker, you would a baker for the rest of your life. You accepted your role, and you died in your role, or you were reeducated. Fenris had been forced to learn these harsh life lessons, and she doubted it even occurred to him that he had automatically taken up a subordinate role in public. It was NOT acceptable and she vowed to address it with him later. 

She subtly reapplied the Sigil at the nape of her neck and ran over the key points she and Alistair had discussed just before she left Fereldan. Luckily he had given her some rudimentary guidelines that would buy her time to correspond with him ... to ensure she didn't accidentally give away the nation. She was alarmed as she registered the tail end of her introduction and glowered at Aveline. Alistair was going to hear a few choice words from her as well and this time she really would hit him when she next saw him. “... Lifebringer of Amaranthine, Bane of the Qunari, Kingmaker of Fereldan. Ambassador Luna Söng!” 

Fighting the increasing need to roll her eyes Luna stepped forward … and winged it. “Greetings, citizens of Kirkwall. Let me first assure you that his majesty King Theirin holds the Free Marches in highest esteem and he hopes for continued good relations with Kirkwall." 

“When will trade resume?” Someone called out impatiently. 

Luna raised a hand to forestall Aveline's men from intervening on her behalf. “Trade will resume Ser, when I have finished negotiating terms. As you may be aware Fereldan has only just averted a civil war." 

“Yes, and how do we know it will not simply escalate to include us,” another man asked snidely. This time she was able to pick out the would be heckler. Based on his blinding attire Luna assumed he was either a well off merchant or spoiled Aristocrat. 

Losing her temper would do no good, so instead Luna placed her clenched hands behind her back and tried to appear dignified. “You have the word of our King.  As intelligent as the people of Kirkwall are renowned to be, I'm sure you can see the benefits of continued peace. Let me make this perfectly clear … without further interruption. The late Queen, in her madness, had entered a pact with the Tevinter Imperium to sell her own citizens into bondage. King Alistair did not steal the throne of Fereldan, but rather saved it from the poison that was Anora's rule. Furthermore, he was legitimately chosen to replace her by the Nobles that survived her tyranny.” There was nervous murmuring through the crowd. 

She paused for effect, allowing them time to absorb and reassess any gossip they had been operating under. “I am here to ensure that peace between our nations remains strong and may yet grow stronger still. Legal and unhindered trade between our peoples MUST resume. Most importantly, I am here to assure that all rightful sons, and daughters, of Fereldan be repatriated.” This last assertion caused a cheer to erupt from the crowd though they quieted as she resumed speaking. 

Luna took a deep breath, knowing that they would NOT be happy with her next statement. “However it is understood that Kirkwall is undergoing great upheaval of its own. As many of you know, I stood with you against the Qunari when they attacked. Terms cannot be negotiated with anyone less that the Viscount of Kirkwall. Only he, or she, has the authority to treat with me.” Luna was NOT imagining the awkward tension rising in the crowd, nor was she imagining the angry undertone of whispered conversations. Aveline was giving her a hard stare, but she thought she could sense approval from the Guard Captain. 

Raising her hands for silence, she was surprised when the gathered crowd quickly hushed. “Know that I will work tirelessly not only for Fereldan's benefit, but for the benefit of all.” That said Luna had delivered her message and wasn't sure how to proceed. Finally, she gave an abrupt bow, turned on her heel, and left the platform. 

_I never want to do anything like that EVER again!_

__

* * * * * 

Bran was every bit as weaselly as she remembered from the video games. She only made it through the pompous and ridiculously long winded meeting by recalling all she knew of him. The fact that she remembered that he was seen with the same male elf from the Blooming Rose that came on to Hawke made it difficult not to imagine what they may have gotten up to. She'd been hard pressed not to giggle while picturing it instead of listening to the same argument he was putting forth for the third time in two hours. She had drained five goblets of wine since entering the stuffy room , was mentally exhausted, and frowned as she noticed the alcohol didn't seem to be affecting her at all. 

_Huh. Come to think of it, I don't think I've even had a buzz since waking up in Thedas. Does he EVER stop TALKING about procedure???  
_

“Enough,” she finally growled in a commanding tone. “As I have now reminded you THREE times, I will follow his majesty's instructions to the letter. Your political problems are exactly that. Yours. If there is no Viscount then it is your citizen's duty to appoint one. Until then, I shall see to Fereldan's other interests. I'm sure we can all agree that a timely relocation of our refugees will benefit everyone. Am I correct to assume I will not be impeded in this regard?” She rose from the ornate table with as much grace and poise as she could muster with an aching back and numb posterior before he could answer. 

“Of course Lady Ambassador. You are welcome to extend your stay as long as required,” Bran said smoothly, appearing to be unaffected by her outburst. “Will you require lodging? I'm sure something can be arranged.” 

“I have a particular building in mind for my needs. I will have someone sent to purchase the property in question later in the week. Good day my Lord.” 

_Holy shit I just mouthed off to an aristocrat … I mean … technically I outrank him … so … uh … I am really glad I watched soOOoOo many historical dramas … and the History Channel. *Ragnar Lothbrok you are my hero. He was the master of making it up as he went along.  
_

Aveline and Fenris swiftly flanked her as she pushed past eager Nobles crowded at the doors to the Seneschal's office. They tried to appear as though they had not been eaves dropping and it was hilarious to watch them tripping over themselves. She walked carefully, willing her sleeping limbs to life, trying to avoid a tumble down the steps. Luna breathed a sigh of relief when they finally entered the Hightown market. She was surprised to see Aveline was still shadowing them. 

Clearing her throat to gain Luna's attention the Captain began speaking to her uncertainly. “You were right.” 

Luna furrowed her brow asking, “Excuse me?” 

The Guard clenched her jaw and ground out, “You predicted that I would regret my treatment of your friend Alistair. You were correct." 

Sighing Luna stopped as they approached another set of stairs. “Aveline … I owe you an apology.” 

The woman gave Luna an suspicious glance but responded, “Whatever for?” 

“You are an honorable woman. My behavior on the Broker's ship was … unacceptable. It … it made me the lesser woman.” The Guard Captain blinked in confusion as Luna continued. “I have great admiration for you. I always have. I hope that we can begin again.” 

“Apology accepted,” Aveline blurted in obvious discomfort. 

“Guard Captain. I want to assure you that I'm being sincere. I don't want you to feel my new position ...” 

“No, you mistake my reaction. It is I … that is ashamed. You have proven yourself to be an honorable woman as well. I have bled beside you, and never have I seen you raise your hand to an innocent. In fact you have improved the situation here.” She gestured at the bustling marketplace, full of shoppers despite the late hour. “I may not like what you claim to be. Nor your opinions on Andrastians … but I may have misjudged you.” They both coughed awkwardly and began walking again. 

_Not bringing that up again._

Luna caught Fenris' smirk and didn't know what to make of it. Aveline confirmed that she was now off duty and they headed straight for the Hanged Man. Fenris had finally joined the conversation, asking playfully if their old haunt was really the best venue for one of her obvious station. Luna responded by punching him in the arm … hard. This only made the armor clad elf chuckle as it injured her hand more than him. 

Varric would likely be there even if Hawke had … retired for the evening. She had a feeling Anders would be making up for lost time in a hurry. The familiar scents of booze, various bodily fluids, and smoke actually made her smile. The patrons didn't even stop to gawk, preferring to avoid Aveline whenever possible. 

To her surprise Anders and Hawke were still hanging around when they entered the dingy bar. Judging by the worried expression on Anders' face something was terribly wrong. Hawke was clearly inebriated which was surprising. She had seen him drink quite a bit, but she had never actually seen him … DRUNK. Intoxicated right beside him was Merrill, and her state was even more of a shock. 

Merrill's face was blotchy, puffy, and all together a complete disaster. She was bawling her eyes out while simultaneously trying to drown herself in cheap ale. It didn't look like she had bathed in quite a while and Luna rushed to her friend's side immediately. The elven woman's greeting was not all together friendly. 

“Yjoo. Loo-naa … whwy *hiccup* did yjoo … should have var...war....varnished me.” Merrill tried to lift her staff, swinging at her with great strength though thankfully terrible aim. It threw the elf off balance, and she knocked all of the drinks off the table, crashing to the floor with a sob. “Gone … all gone. *sniffle* Yoo ni ... KNEW.” Ignoring the belligerent accusations Luna sat beside her and gathered the elf into her into arms. She heard Aveline arguing with Anders, but gave Merrill her full attention. 

She didn't need to be able to clearly understand the broken elf to know what she was talking about. Merrill's entire clan … was dead. Luna couldn't believe that she had completely forgotten about that possibility. In hindsight there had been plenty of opportunity for her to help Merrill avoid this tragedy. She could have warned her against blood magic. She could have discouraged her repair of the Eluvian. She could have just TOLD her about the possible future. She could even have taken the cowards route and written it all in a letter. 

Luna had done none of these things. The problem had slipped her mind as events unfolded, and her focus had shifted to Alistair's rise to power. Indescribable guilt rose in her, and she held tightly to Merrill, unable to dispute anything she was saying. She hushed her friend, running her hand through the woman's hair as the elf cursed her and the clan that had betrayed her. 

Merrill deserved more than this. Luna had always known Keeper Marethari was too stubborn for her own good. It had been her hope, that having been removed from their previous campsite, the danger had been averted. A single oversight and now the sweet Mage that had nursed Luna back to health was suffering the consequences. 

“Wa… why wod'ent dey *sniffle* liisseen?” The elf was slowly passing out against Luna's shoulder. 

“You make choice … now live with it.” Alon snapped at Merrill and his vehemence startled Luna.  She hadn't even been aware that he was in the tavern. “She not servant, cleaning up messes. Cannot fix it all!"  


“What's your PROBLEM Alon,” Luna asked in sudden frustration. “What good is yelling at her going to do? She's DRUNK.” 

He responded in a mishmash of broken Common and English. So much for keeping their language a close secret. “Are not tired of all? **How many of these people's problems are you willing to shoulder before** they need take responsibility? What good be yelling? How good be guilt? HER choices, NOT yours.” Alon paused, still obviously upset and asked, “ **Did you know she was a bloodmage? How much can we be expected to give for** Thedas? **This isn't our world!** ” He was breathing hard, clutching a bottle in one hand and looked surprised by his own words.

Luna noticed that their companions had quieted, listening carefully to everything he was saying. “ **We'll discuss this LATER ...** " she said frowning. 

“When?!” 

“When you're not being a COCK,” she finally hissed back, ending the conversation. Something about Alon's assertions and demeanor had disturbed her, but she would deal with his attitude problem later. He clearly had no sympathy or bedside manner … not that the sticky floor of the Hanged Man constituted a bed. This was not the easy going man she remembered leaving in Hawke's care months prior. “Someone help me move her,” she grumbled. 

Fenris assisted Luna in standing then gingerly lifted their unconscious friend. Luna was worried about how thin Merrill appeared, Fenris was strong, but it had taken less effort than it should have. Silently thanking him, they caught sight of Varric who was ushering them towards his rooms. Taking the hint they joined the dwarf, though Luna grabbed the expensive bottle of spirits out of Alon's hands with a glare. He glared right back, fuming at her, then stomped out of the tavern. 

_This is going to be a long night, and I'll be damned if I'm going to work through it all without a stiff drink._ _Now's as good a time as any to test whether or not alcohol has any real affect on me. I have a bad feeling it works through me too quickly, like the health potions, poisons, and antidotes. Gods I hope I'm wrong._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ragnar Lothbrok or Ragnar Lodbrok - **legendary Danish and Swedish Viking hero and ruler. Lead character in the History Channel's show 'Vikings.' He starts as a farmer and raider then rises to power to become a legend.**


	43. Prophecy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Luna cleaned Merrill up as much as possible and then dumped her on Varric's bed to sleep off whatever she had been drinking. Based on the assortment of bottles, it looked to have been the swill they usually reserved for those too poor to care what they were ingesting. It tasted like reconstituted foot fungus and Luna had vowed never to go near it again. If Varric were to be believed, it was worse than dwarven ale, and that actually WAS distilled from a variety of mushrooms.

This was not the way she had envisioned spending her first night back in Kirkwall. True her version of events would still have involved drinking, but there would have been less vomit, and more laughter. She was beginning to question her decision to return to Kirkwall all over again. Frustrated, and tired, she turned to her still sober companions and crossed her arms.

“You want to tell me what crawled up Alon's ass and died? Or maybe why Hawke and Merrill are so piss drunk they can't even crawl out of here under their own power?”

Varric was seated at his desk, glass of whiskey in hand, and kindly offered some to both Fenris and herself. Aveline was already lounging on a nearby chair. “Everything went to shit,” the guardswoman declared without humor. She downed her drink in one go, grimacing as it burned its way down.

“Really? And here I thought this was completely normal!” Aveline rolled her eyes at the sarcasm and Luna polished off her drink as well. She refilled both their glasses from her purloined bottle of … something that smelled like sour vodka. Come to think of it; it was probably better that she DIDN'T know what it was. “I was hoping for a little more elaboration Aveline. Let me guess, Merril was meddling with her mirror again. Varric, you're a storyteller. So out with it.”

Sighing in resignation Varric leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Hawke found out some things about his father he's not proud of. I won't go into it, you want to know, you can ask him yourself. Though I'm guessing you don't need to.” Luna gritted her teeth to keep from interrupting as he continued listing their troubles. “The Templars have taken to 'walking around' the City in groups. Which has Aveline on edge and makes the Merchant's Guild more than a little nervous. The elves have started barricading themselves into the Alienage at night. And you're right. Merrill IS obsessed with that Mirror of hers. She wasn't eating, or sleeping, and quite frankly I was concerned about her … so I contacted her Keeper.” Varric's expression changed to one of overwhelming guilt and he drained his glass again.

“Oh Varric ...” She couldn't help the sorrow that laced her voice.

“Her Keeper made a deal with some demon or spirit or whatever you want to call it. Of course the Clan saw us standing over her body … you can guess how they reacted to that. We defended ourselves and …” His refusal to voice it aloud spoke volumes.

“Were there no survivors,” Fenris asked grimly.

“Not that we found. Of course Merrill and Hawke began talking, drinking, and that led to speculating together. They concluded that you must have known. You've never said how much you see in these visions of yours. They're convinced that you're using what you know … to better your own interests.” He waved at her expensive clothing dismissively and Luna frowned.

“WHAT?! That's utter bullshit and you know it Varric.”

“I know, I know. You have to admit arriving the way you did … it didn't help. You try arguing with two drunk Mages while keeping the fact they ARE Mages a secret. Where was I? Oh yeah, after that they confronted Alon. He claims not to know anything, but they've kept at him for over a week now.”

“No wonder he was being such an ass.”

“I don't know Tricky, there's … something I can't put my finger on, but Alon just … says all the right things. A lot like YOU actually. It's like he just … KNOWS things.”

Luna scoffed, “Have you met me? I'm a walking accident. And Alon was definitely putting his foot in his mouth earlier.” Fenris and Varric looked at her strangely. “What?” She downed another glass and was pleasantly surprised to finally feel the effects of the alcohol. Her lips and fingers tingled, and her face warmed nicely.

“I think we would have noticed THAT,” Varric commented looking amused.

“Why would … one put their foot into their own mouth?” Fenris asked so seriously she cracked a grin and shook her head.

“Oh. I'm sorry. Um, that didn't culturally translate did it. Um … it's a saying where I'm from. It means … To say the wrong things at the wrong time … usually to embarrassing consequences. Because obviously … why WOULD you do that … now that you mention it, that does sound extremely gross.”

Aveline interrupted them with a grunt and a bout a of cursing. “You've heard our end, now it's your turn.”

Luna shrugged saying, “I don't even know where to begin ...”

“Why'd you take off? That's a good place to start ...” Varric muttered.

“Maybe we should wait for Hawke ...”

“Anders has taken Hawke home. He won't be in any fit state for days. We deserve to know why you vanished,” Aveline said sternly, looking up at her with tired eyes and pouring more of Alon's brew for them all. “Alon insisted you would arrive in Fereldan for Alistair's bid for the throne …” Aveline's unspoken question of HOW hung in the air between them.

Luna contemplated her drink before finally answering against her better judgment. “I was ready to murder Cullen that night,” she whispered. Varric raised his brows in surprise. This was something she hadn't discussed with anyone, not even Fenris. Then again she and Fenris seemed incapable of just … talking. “The truth is I was out of control. Something the Templars did to me … I'm not a Mage. My … Abilities don't work in the sense that Thedas understands it. I have no connection to the Fade. We call ourselves the 'Gifted' or 'Shamans' depending on … well geography, culture … sorry, that's not my point.”

She gripped her glass tighter, now that she was talking, she couldn't seem to stop. “I was filled with … rage … blood lust, a desire to … dominate those around me. I didn't just want to kill him. I wanted to rip him apart with my bare hands.” Aveline groaned, not that Luna could blame her. “When Anders got in my way … I would have turned on him. I almost did. Fenris was the only thing that stopped me. It was like … like all of my baser instincts had taken the reins. I was becoming little more than an animal … ” Luna didn't dare look up at the elf. She didn't want to see the disgust on his face upon his realization of what he had involved himself with. It hadn't been her intention to end their relationship so soon …

_It was nice while it lasted I guess. One hell of a rollercoaster, but I didn't feel alone._

“Fenris stopped you,” Varric prompted with a raised brow.

“The Lyrium,” Fenris said, and she looked up at him in surprise. He didn't appear to be angry at all, only faintly disturbed. Instead of flying off the handle he only looked at her in frustration. “I suspected as much … you should have told me.” She nodded at him in astonishment; blushing as she remembered how his markings affected her.

“I … you're right. I should have told you.” With that non-apology she cleared her throat nervously before continuing. “After I ran, Sandal found me and led me to … a secret exit. Long story short I lost Sandal but ran smack into Flemeth. I'm sure you recall her … red leather, white hair. I was … detained at an ancient Elvhen Temple. She helped … well, FORCED me to hone my Gifts. I won't bore you with the specifics, but I was … out of tune with Thedas so to speak.”

“Well that sounds fun.” The dwarf grabbed another bottle of brandy and topped them off.

“I've encountered her before … it was … unsettling,” Aveline didn't elaborate, but Luna knew that she and Hawke had encountered Flemeth while escaping the Fifth Blight. She was just glad it appeared they believed her.

“Unsettling is one word for it; not the one I would choose ... She basically kidnapped me and was keeping me from leaving. Flemeth actually taught me my own … 'resonance?' Should make healing a lot less painful and far less time consuming actually. Of course the downside is … I have to be actively helping. I can't tell you how many times I tried to find a way out of that damn ruin.”

Aveline didn't seem to know how to shut off interrogation mode. “You think she did this out of the goodness of her heart? If she even has such a thing ...”

“Not for a moment. I know she has an agenda, I'm just not sure why I would fall into those plans.” She gave up using her glass and took a pull straight from the bottle.

Varric scoffed saying, “Oh I can think of a few uses for someone claiming to be a seer from another world.”

“I'm not CLAIMING anything. I AM from another world.” Luna stared at her empty drink in distaste. “Look, I could detail the endless hours of pouring over brittle, deteriorating tomes if you'd like. Or maybe you'd like to hear about the grueling physical training she insisted I perfect in only a handful of months. Or maybe how I spent the bulk of that time sleeping outdoors, sans shelter, and was forced to use a hole in the ground for … things … but I have a feeling you're not really interested.”

Clearing his throat Fenris asked, “You already know what happened with Hawke as well then?” He had removed his gauntlets at some point, and leaned his chin into his fingers. He appeared thoughtful, and when their eyes met he didn't flinch away. Luna didn't know what to make of the looks he had been giving her all day.

“Yes. I know quite a bit of what will happen to Hawke in the future. Think if it like a story. I'm not sure how far along you've all continued to read the book while I was gone. If I simply tell you what I know I risk changing the future too much. It would be a disaster.”

“How much of all this could you have prevented? If you had been here I mean.” Luna frowned turning her head away from looking at them. “I thought so. So they were right. You KNEW this would happen and kept it to yourself. What do you get out of letting Hawke find out about his father's past like that? What do you achieve by letting down Daisy? She practically worshiped the ground you walked on!”

Luna slammed the bottle onto the desk, spilling some of the liquid as it tipped over. “I knew it was a POSSIBILITY. Is that what you really THINK of me?” His suspicions shouldn't have hurt her so much, after all he had every right to be cautious … but it did.

“I don't know what to think Tricky. You're slipperier than a greased wheel. I've been watching you since you got here and I still haven't decided what it is I'm seeing. Some days you seem too good to be true, and you know what they say. If it's too good to be true ...”

“That's enough Varric,” Fenris suddenly growled. “I'm sure you were able to glean as much from Alon's outburst as I. Luna has put herself in harms way for all of us on more occasions than can be counted. WE were the ones that chose not to heed her warnings when she gave them. What incentive did she have to elaborate?”

“Will wonders never cease. Broody defending someone? I guess Anders was right, you ARE playing between the sheets with her aren't you. She must have made some kind of impression ...” The dwarf jibed while taking another drink.

“SERIOUSLY? First of all, that is NONE of your damn business. As far as what I do or do not know, as I said, it's not that SIMPLE,” Luna growled in irritation.

“Then maybe you should EXPLAIN it to us,” he snapped. Luna was taken aback, she had never witnessed Varric snapping at anyone. “You keep saying we wouldn't listen. Well we're listening NOW.”

Luna threw up her hands in defeat. “FINE. Have it your way _Durgen'len_. Don't say I didn't warn you.” Luna grabbed one of Varric's quills, a pot of ink, and a sheet of vellum to illustrate what she was about to explain. She used her sleeve to clear the desk of any remaining alcohol. “First … you cannot think of time as a line. Traditionally my people envision it as a tapestry, each thread on the loom representing the life of an individual. I'm not sure you have anything equivalent in your cultures.”

Fenris nodded saying, “There is similar lore in the Imperium.”

“Right. It's poetic, but insufficient. As I said before, think instead of each life as a branching story.” This seemed to grab hold of Varric's attention. “Each decision is another fork, another group of possibilities, and together all time creates ... the ultimate, epic drama.” Her hand worked furiously as she gave her explanation, doodles becoming more complicated as she went. “Some paths end rather ingloriously, others ensure the continuation of the overall story arch. Most importantly, these decisions are all intertwined, causing each individual to adapt.”

Aveline shrugged, “You're just describing life. Everything we do reflects on the world around us.”

Luna nodded eagerly. “Exactly. Thing is, because they all rely on each other, there are *'Fixed Points in Time' that cannot be altered. To do so would be disastrous, the entire construct would fall apart.”

“What do you mean fall apart?” Varric asked alarmed.

“There's two possibilities if a fixed point is changed. The best BAD outcome would be that the … Powers of Darkness prevail and all the freepeoplesofThedasarelaidwastebeforethem.” Luna said this all in a rush and belatedly realized she'd said that a little too cheerfully.

_Talk about overcompensating. Me and my big fucking mouth._

“Powers of Darkness??” Aveline asked nervously.

Luna took a deep breath. If she said too much now it could ruin everything … but perhaps she could get them thinking in the right direction? “Something is coming. Something big. Approximately eight to ten years from now. It involves events that occur here in Kirkwall. I'm sorry I can't tell you more than that.” She tried to convey the seriousness of her declaration.

Varric stared at her, mouth set in a thin line and asked, “If that's the best ... bad case scenario, I'm not sure I want to know what the worst is.”

“The worst would be **paradox**.” Alon intoned from the doorway. She couldn't remember him ever having entered and was astonished by his interjection. Her companions looked at each other in confusion. He caught her gaze and held it and she was wary of his calm demeanor. Something in his posture seemed dangerous … threatening even.

“What is **per-ah-docks** ,” Fenris asked furrowing his brow.

Alon interjected an explanation before she could. “It means contradiction. In this case, two facts that cannot both be true, yet are. Consider a starving person. Hunger gnaws at their gut, and tells them they need to eat. So they seek out food and they're saved.” Alon took the quill from her shaking fingers and added to her sketches. “Now what if after they'd been fed, they traveled back in time and spared themselves the pain of that hunger?”

He paused, giving them time to consider before providing his own answer. “They would starve to death, but then they wouldn't be able to go back in the first place to prevent the hunger to begin with ... **Paradox** is THAT, but for the whole of Thedas. The world would unravel. It would … unmake.” Alon wasn't looking at the others now, he was directing his answers only to Luna.

Luna gave Alon a hard stare, her hand drifting towards her weapons. “I've been given a glimpse of the 'Book of Life', and much like an editor, have been removing the less satisfying parts of the story. But I can't be everywhere, and I can't watch everything. I'm another character in the play now. Every choice I make is bound by the same rules.”

“Andraste's tits ...” Varric whispered into the stunned silence while rubbing his temples. Aveline looked like she wanted to throw up. She noticed that the others seemed groggy, almost drugged, not reacting to Alon's presence as they should have. It could have just been because they were mixing booze, but Luna doubted it.

“That is an enormous burden to bear.” Fenris' speech was slurred and he seemed to be having trouble stringing the words together.

Varric shook his head slowly, saying, “So what. You're telling me this was destiny? Hawke and Merrill needed this to happen to prevent the end of the world? To defeat some great looming evil?! That makes no sense.”

“No. Keeper Marethari,” Luna started, but Alon interrupted her.

“Yes. It WAS Fate. Keeper Marethari was ALWAYS going to be possessed. Whether Merrill's clan survived or not was irrelevant. We cannot change what has already been written.”

The others were passing out now, overcome by whatever had been slipped into their drinks. In hindsight she realized it must have been in the bottle she had taken from Alon. Luna knew it couldn't have been a poison, or she would have succumbed as well. As the situation became more tense her body was already burning off the alcohol.

“WHAT THE FUCK ALON?!”

He lunged for her, pinning her against a wall as the others tried with varying degrees of failure, to come to her defense. They were all well into their cups by this point, and being attacked inside the Hanged Man had never occurred to them. Especially by a known friend and ally. “You … absolute, MORON! I knew this wouldn't work, but she insisted I give you a chance. Now you've jeopardized EVERYTHING!”

His hand was firmly around her throat and she struggled to breathe. He steadily tightened his grip and she felt a small twinge of fear as she finally realized … he was speaking perfect Common.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elvish) Durgen'len : **child of the stone**  
>  * "Fixed point in time" : **A reference to the BBC's ... Doctor Who.**


	44. Lullaby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.er.

“I trusted you,” she wheezed. Alon loosened his grip slightly so she could breathe and Luna craned her neck to check on Fenris. She was relieved to see that he was still alive and turned her attention fully to the man who'd betrayed them. He was looking at her curiously, as though she were a specimen, and she was pretty sure that was bad news for her.

“You did, didn't you,” he asked in monotone. “I knew you were dangerous, I was just surprised that you were also gullible. We're all lucky I stopped you when I did.”

“I have no idea what you're talking ….” Luna clawed at his hand trying to further loosen his hold on her. It was unnerving, but he seemed to WANT to speak with her. Ignoring her sleeping companions for now she tried to play for time.

“ **Paradox** Luna. What else.” He didn't bat an eye, even as her claws began digging into him. “You were explaining things they aren't supposed to know.”

“And you're what, a **Time-Cop**? YOU explained **paradox** to them. If I'm guilty of telling them too much you're just as culpable.” Alon's blood ran between her fingers and still he didn't relent.

_Does this guy even HAVE nerves in his hands?_

“They won't remember the last HOUR thanks to you graciously serving them my home brew. By the time it wears off you'll be dead.” He sighed, and slapped her hands away. “It wasn't supposed to go down like this you know.” Alon's limbs held her like a steel cage, yet he remained eerily calm, again tightening his hands around her neck. “I guess I got the dosage wrong. Helena always said I was really shitty at math.” There was amusement in his tone now, as if he were lost in recalling a fond memory.

“You knew Helena,” she asked trying to keep him talking as she inched her hand towards her dagger and readied her **Draconic Might**. “She was pretty off her rocker when I last saw her. Bloodmage tortures will do that to a person. You wouldn't happen to know the asshole that left her there would you?”

Alon sneered at her saying, “You think you're SO smart.”

He disarmed her in one fluid motion; unfastening then tossing her weapons belt into the fireplace. Merrill rolled over in her sleep and grumbled as he resumed his punishing grip on her throat and its sudden return triggered something viscous in Luna. She forced him to release her, grabbing him by the wrist, and twisting it painfully with a yell. Flinging his arm away, she suddenly found herself in the most brutal, drag down, dirty fight of her life.

“Helena refused to see the bigger picture. She was no longer a problem, but you had to complicate things didn't you,” Alon growled while taking another swing. He missed her by centimeters and she flung a drink in his face as she scrambled out of the way of the iron poker he'd somehow acquired. The wicked metal hooked her behind the knee and she found herself on her back, blood streaming from the torn flesh.

Luna ignored the pain, and instead grabbed a ceramic jug of spirits, and shattered it against the floor. She was left with a handle and a very sharp edge. “It was you wasn't it. Helena was trying to warn me about someone ...” She lunged for any weak point within reach, slicing the air with her improvised blade. “How could you leave her for Hadriana to toy with. It wasn't just her body … her MIND was BROKEN! Why? Did you love her? Because I'm fairly certain she loved you.”

_I have to keep him talking, maybe I can distract him long enough to survive this shit show._

He ignored her question, pinning her hand against a table, then slamming her wrist against it over and over again. She'd apparently hit a nerve. “Is that all you've got pretty boy,” she taunted, managing to stab him in the shoulder. He roared in pain, grabbing for her wrists as she tried to break free. She slashed at any open skin she could find, trying to fend him off. “Or maybe she tried to leave you. What's the matter Alon? Couldn't get it up anymore?” Alon clenched his jaw and slammed her hand down again, harder than before, and she cried out as she finally lost her grip on the bloody weapon. He fought her fiercely, slowly lowering it towards her chest, and readied his other hand to slam it into her. 

His nose made a satisfying crunch as she headbutted him despite her broken wrist. He reeled away from her and she took the opportunity to center herself. Taking a stance she prepared for his inevitable assault. She paused indicating his broken nose saying, “Hrmm. Not quite so pretty as before." 

“You're crazy,” he finally hissed, speaking as he casually reset his nose with a series of sickening pops. She made an effort not to cringe at the wet sounds. 

“Look who's talking, traitor.” 

“Anyone ever tell you that you talk too fucking much? You're the traitor, NOT me.” 

_Note to self ... keep calling him a traitor._

Luna cast a **Heal** on her wrist, trying to mask how much pain she was really in. This was good, he was speaking … now she just needed to find a way to actually win. “And you think I'M the crazy one?” She laughed mockingly. “How long exactly have you been in Thedas Alon? If that's even your name.” 

“I didn't lie about my name,” he said menacingly. They circled each other, both looking for something to take advantage of … something to exploit. 

“Just about newly arriving in Thedas. Let me guess, those were YOUR hired thugs ransacking that village. Pathetic. We're in a new world, and the best you can think of is to become a WARLORD?” 

Alon roared, kicking a chair at her, and attempted to punch her in the gut. Dodging the incoming furniture she returned the attack with a swift uppercut to his jaw, sending him back a few paces. Returning to their stalemate he retorted, “You know NOTHING.” 

“Jon Snow ...” Luna laughed again. Her attitude seemed to be wearing on him and so she continued in the same vein. “Oh come on. Game of Thrones. What? Nothing?” 

“This isn't a GAME Luna.” 

“Funny, I remember telling you the same thing. What else did you lie about then? Are you really from America? Why lie? We're both from Earth. What possible reason could there be for decieving me?" Luna's voice cracked, hinting at the bitter edge of her anger. "I VOUCHED for you! How long have you REALLY been in Thedas traitor?” 

Alon suddenly gave her a knowing look and grew unnaturally calm. “I lied about a lot. I'm sure that's something you can understand, after all it comes so easily to you.” Luna grew angrier as she watched him trace the **Sigil of Acceleration** and rapidly move to tackle her. She wasted no time casting her own, and thanked the Gods when it activated, barely gaining her time to evade. 

_He's one of the GIFTED?!??! That LYING Son-of-a-BITCH!_

Having missed her again he did something she did not expect, and drew power directly from the unconscious Fenris. Pure power filled the air around them and Luna felt herself also absorbing it. “COME ON! Let's see what you can REALLY do,” Alon threatened, as his eyes flared bright blue. Something inside of Luna responded to the elf's life being endangered, her own eyes flaring brilliant gold, as Alon lunged for her.

Knowledge, hidden, and long dormant welled up within her. Fighting styles she couldn't even name flooded her mind and it was everything she could do to simply process the deluge of information before she found herself already implementing it. They moved at speeds the eye struggled to follow; **Wing Chun** combining to include **Taekwondo** , **Urban Krav Maga,** and just good old fashioned street brawling.

They blocked and parried one another in a blur; spin kicks edging seamlessly into crude shots aimed for the groin and face. They were both taking injuries, her right arm was sliced open, bleeding badly, and his cheeks were gouged from her frenzied attacks on his eyes and face. She was fairly certain her knee was worsening, and judging by his growing limp he had a broken ankle. It didn't deter either of them.

He answered her finesse with bruising strength; powerful swings meant to render her stunned or permanently disabled. They were a contrast in styles; brute force versus flawless technique. A nearby stool became a shield, and in turn a club, but Alon kept pace with everything she threw at him. Anything and everything in the room became a weapon. Books, vases, the rug; it didn't matter as long as it came easily to hand.

_Fuck it's like fighting a JUNKIE. Doesn't he ever get tired?_

He somehow managed to get behind her, grabbing her hair and using it to yank her about the room. “I'm disappointed. Everyone here seems to think you can walk on water.” He slapped her hard enough that her vision swam and she blindly grabbed the last remaining candle in the room. Without hesitation she brought the flame down on his arm, pouring hot wax on his skin, and extinguished it. He threw her involuntarily and she found herself sprawled on top of Merrill.

The elven Mage groaned in pain and Luna leapt up wildly. Luna tripped over the bed and found the discarded iron poker. She quickly charged the iron with **Draconic Might** just in time to parry Alon's attack. The bastard had picked up Aveline's sword and his bruising strikes left her hands tingling. Luna dodged a killing blow at the last moment; the sword shattering as it hit the magically enhanced iron. She tried to hit him with the poker but he wrenched it from her grasp, sending it clattering into the fireplace as well. Embers flew about, momentarily blinding Alon as she dove for her next weapon.

They were quickly demolishing the contents of the room leaving less and less for her to work with. Varric would have to bill her later. She was in a losing battle and in a risky move she tried to reach Fenris' blade. Luna worked her way towards her sleeping companion while fending off Alon's increasingly violent advance. Her lungs burned, her limbs ached, and blood was coating much of the floor. She was only lucky that it wasn't all hers.

“You had to meddle didn't you. Nevermind the consequences.” Alon threw a table leg at her. She neatly caught it midair and clubbed him in the face with it sending him tumbling to the floor by the fireplace.

“I'm sorry all I heard was 'blah blah blah hit me in the face!'” She strode towards him with every intention of hitting him again when he threw ash in her eyes.

Alon took advantage of the opening in her defense, his palm strike hitting her in the chest hard enough to splinter bone, and she found herself landing painfully on her back. The only thing that saved her lungs from collapsing was her armored chestplate, and the healing energies she had quickly poured towards her sternum. Still, she couldn't stand, her body simply wouldn't respond.

He looked at her, prone and vulnerable, and picked up Fenris' sword without a word. The Lyrium glow in the room diminished as he stopped drawing on the elven warrior's brands. His mouth was set in a grim line, and he hefted the blade over one shoulder easily. Just as he began to stalk towards her to finish the job a small voice cried out, “STOP IT! You PROMISED!”

The freckle faced Spirit of Hope had thrown herself in front of Luna's defeated form with her usual reckless bravery. The little girl was futilely shielding her from Alon's wrath. Tears twinkled at the corners of Hope's eyes, her halo of messy brown hair partially obscuring Luna's view. Hope looked up at Alon imploringly and Luna watched in confusion as his calm demeanor melted away to reveal great anguish.

“It's not that simple,” he whispered, echoing Luna's earlier words. Dropping Fenris' blade from his shoulder he pressed the tip into the wood floor, leaning against it as though exhausted. “You don't … no you CAN'T understand. It isn't in your nature.” Alon sounded choked, obviously conflicted; by what exactly Luna couldn't say. She focused on healing herself, trying to piece together his motivations while the Spirit held his attention. Luna stifled a scream as her bones began to knit together painfully.

Hope approached Alon without guile, her little hands framing his much larger biceps. “You shouldn't fight each other. You both want what's best. You should work together!” She smiled hopefully at him as he gently hugged her with one arm. “We can make it better! The three of us, together. Just like we planned!” Alon began humming what sounded like a soft lullaby and Luna desperately tried to gasp out a warning.

The humming ceased abruptly and Luna choked in horror as the Spirit suddenly went limp in Alon's arms. He shook his head sadly. “We already tried that.” Fenris' gigantic sword was protruding through the little Spirit's back in a gruesome and callous display. Alon left the blade inside her, Fade energies leaking around the metal as she struggled to speak.

He then drew a **Sigil of Banishment** on the little girl's cheek. On Earth it was used in exorcisms, the cleansing of ritual spaces, or sanctums. It also prevented whatever was banished from ever manifesting again. Luna had no idea what kind of effect it would have on a spirit of Thedas. The Sigil flared with jade light, and Hope's form flickered as she fought to maintain cohesion. The air around them rippled, and Luna watched as the Veil thinned, drawing Hope away from the material plane.

“NO!” Luna finally cried, her mind stuttering, unable to reconcile the fact that Hope would now be trapped in the Fade, a place Luna could not reach. Even if she ever saw her again, there was no guarantee the Spirit would retain her purpose in the forced crossing. Hope would become corrupted, twisted into a demon, and the being that had been her friend would no longer exist. “How COULD YOU!?” Hope began to disintegrate even as Luna struggled to her knees. Luna glared at her fellow Earther; lifting herself with murderous intent.

Luna emitted a feral growl, her grief mingling with disgust as he … began to sob? He was completely ignoring Luna, his eyes never leaving the innocent Spirit he had butchered, as she started to dissolve. “I WILL save us ALL.” Alon was truly crying now, wracked with emotions he couldn't control. “I'm SORRY. I needed more time …” Alon backed towards the exit, dropping her like a rag-doll, and Luna caught Hope's body before it could hit the ground. When Luna looked up; Alon was gone, along with all of her notes and sketches.

_What in the flying fuck of all fucks is going ON??????_

Luna cradled the spirit trying to erase the branded Sigil from her face. Her strongest magics only slipped off of Hope's disintegrating form. She searched her memory frantically for anything; any clue that might give her a chance to save the gentle soul. Her spells continually passed through the fading Spirit and Luna found herself hugging Hope to herself in desperation. 

Intellectually Luna understood that Hope was not a child. Intellectually, it stood to reason that the Spirit of Hope was likely hundreds, if not thousands of years old. Intellectually she knew this wasn't her fault. Emotional pain doesn't care what the reasonable explanations are. 

Luna's eyes and instincts were telling her something entirely different. To Luna, Hope was an innocent. In her arms was a small, helpless child that was dying, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had let a monster into their lives and this little girl was paying the price of her mistake. Every part of her psyche rebelled at what she was being forced to witness. 

The Spirit didn't even look upset, turning an increasingly transparent head towards Luna with a calm smile still firmly in place. “Do not despair Luna of Earth. Trust to hope. There is always hope.” The Spirit's voice sounded hollow, echoing, as though emanating from a great distance. Green flecks of energy drifted in the air, filling Varric's chambers with enchanted light. 

“Please don't leave me … don't leave.” Luna gasped for breath, trying to stem the tide she knew was coming. “I might never see you again.” Luna forced out. 

“All things end. As I die, hope is somewhat diminished, but if YOU fall ... the future of this world will be darker still.” 

Tears streamed freely down Luna's cheeks as she cried, “This is all my fault. I should have been quicker. I should have seen through Alon … I should ...” 

“I should have warned you ...” Hope's image faltered, her voice growing quieter. “We all make mistakes. This was my greatest.” 

“We don't belong here. I've endangered you all.” 

Hope chuckled, particles of light drifting from her with every sound. “Now you sound like Alon.” It only made Luna more upset and she tightened her hold on what was left of the little Spirit. 

“Dry your tears. Defend yourself … defend each other … defend Thedas ...” The Spirit of Hope gently tucked a strand of Luna's hair behind her ear with a ghostly hand … then ceased to be. The room grew dark, the only light left untouched by the Earther's terrible battle coming from the dimming fireplace. Luna's weeping was the only sound that could be heard in Varric's chambers. 

Luna was startled when a pair of thin elven arms weakly wrapped about her and began rocking her back and forth. “I heard everything,” Merrill whispered into her hair. “You're not alone.” She kept her eyes closed, too distraught to question the comforting embrace as Merrill began to sing. 

[**_Mir Da'len Somniar_**](https://youtu.be/awWpt7UqtaU): A Dalish lullaby  


Elgara vallas, da'len  
Melava somniar  
Mala taren aravas  
Ara ma'desen melar  
Iras ma ghilas, da'len  
Ara ma'nedan ashir  


Dirthara lothlenan'as  
Bal emma mala dir  
Tel'enfenim, da'len  
Irassal ma ghilas  
Ma garas mir renan  
Ara ma'athlan vhenas  
Ara ma'athlan vhenas  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics: (English)  
> 
> 
> Sun sets, little one,  
>  Time to dream  
>  Your mind journeys,  
>  But I will hold you here.  
>  Where will you go, little one  
>  Lost to me in sleep?  
> 
> 
> Seek truth in a forgotten land  
>  Deep within your heart.  
>  Never fear, little one,  
>  Wherever you shall go.  
>  Follow my voice--  
>  I will call you home.  
>  I will call you home.  
> 


	45. Hopeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updates may be sporadic. Life is in upheaval and don't really feel like sharing just yet. Could use some positive vibes though so feel free to send those my family's way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.er.

Anders arrived moments later to find Merrill still tightly curled around Luna amidst the destruction. Someone had seen fit to notify the Champion about the disturbing violence that had erupted at the Hanged Man. As Hawke had been indisposed, Anders left him in the care of his servants and rushed back to see what new calamity had befallen his friends in such a short time span. The scowl he was wearing quickly faded into stubborn resolve as he checked each of the sleeping victims.

Aveline was livid when she woke to find herself having been incapacitated. The Captain had taken charge immediately, found the nearest Guards, and ordered them to scour the vicinity for Alon. He had somehow managed not only to abscond with Luna's impromptu doodles about the space time continuum but both of her carefully hand-bound notebooks detailing everything she knew of Thedas had also disappeared.

She wasn't even sure when he had managed to unhook the harness, let alone remove the book from beneath her shirt. It couldn't have been during the fight, surely she would have noticed? It was obvious one of his talents involved the manipulation of memory and it made her skin crawl thinking of what else he may have taken from her.

_Helena implied my memories had been stolen. Could Alon be responsible for filching them in the first place? He was manipulating me all along. I hate this feeling. I hate not knowing. I hate the doubt. Every betrayal leaves the world a little less … Well, it leaves it less shiny I guess.  Will it completely lose its luster one day? Will I become jaded enough not to care what happens, or who I might hurt?_

A subsequent search of her belongings in Merrill's home revealed that her trunk full of blueprints was also missing. All of her efforts being stolen was bad enough, but what really worried her was what Alon planned to do with the horde of information. He obviously knew more than he had admitted to when meeting them, but then why steal them from her if he already had that knowledge? Did he think that they were inherently dangerous, or was he just a good spy, fishing for information and sowing doubt? He didn't seem interested in using them for his own gain as that would cause further changes to the timeline. 

Varric was more than angry, surveying the damage with a kind of melancholy unique to an artist looking at the unrecognizable remnants of their hard work. By some miracle most of his projects were intact, though looking back on it Luna had to wonder if Alon had deliberately steered the combat away from the manuscripts.

Fenris wouldn't wake at all. Luna even tried slapping him, as he had once done for her, but he remained unconscious. She readily told Anders and the others what had happened to bring him to such a state but to no avail. Luna and Alon had severely drained his markings, fueling her victory but seriously endangering Fenris' life. The healer worked tirelessly to wake the elf, and they moved him to Hawke's estate for close observation. Luna attempted to use her own magics but it seemed that only time and Fenris' own life energies would fully recharge the brands.

Seeing him like that, his skin ashen, eyes and cheeks sunken in a parody of death, left her deeply unsettled. Merrill hadn't looked much better, her own poor health due to self neglect, but Luna had eyes only for the sleeping Fenris. He lay helpless in bed, clinging to life, and she had helped to put him there.  His breathing was barely detectable, his heart beat erratic, and she had been forcibly ejected from the room on more than one occasion by Anders as he tried to work.

Luna paced the halls, frantic with worry, only calming down after destroying several valuable pieces of furniture. Bodahn had accepted payment from her with a kind word but his understanding only made it hurt more. Hawke had insisted she wait outside the mansion until called and after what felt like eons Anders had allowed her to return to Fenris' side.

She didn't sleep for days at a time; instead keeping silent watch over her ailing lover whenever possible. When Luna first woke she would renew the healing Sigils she had placed on his chakras. As there was no actual wound to heal there was no discernible effect, all of the mages agreed that she should at least try. A week passed then another and still he continued to sleep, though Anders assured her that he was steadily recovering.

_Yeah, but when will he wake up? WILL you wake up Fenris? You have to wake up. You HAVE to. You're not supposed to die here. Oh Gods what have I done._

Needing something, anything, to distract herself Luna quickly became obsessed with unraveling the conundrum that was Alon. She stained her hands and arms with ink as she jotted down note after note in an attempt to weave together his timeline. Luna also made a half-hearted attempt to recreate her original notes on Thedas but it only served to remind her of the Earther's betrayal. She scrutinized everything Alon had ever told her; playing and replaying their first meeting in her mind. There didn't seem to be any way for her to tell truth from lie and she had no idea what Alon might do next. 

_Aside from his ominous declaration of working toward some goal he needed more time for. That and his extreme reaction to my trying to change events in Thedas. Fuck. The more I look at what he was actually saying, the more it makes sense … I HAVE been mucking around with the timeline. What if Alon's right? What if Fenris … dies? I'm SLEEPING with him for fucks sake and that sure wasn't part of the original story._

She strained her memory to its limits, trying to pick apart everything the crazed Helena had babbled during their short acquaintance. It wasn't exactly easy, Helena had only been half coherent on a good day, and her interpretation of the mish-mash of words could easily have been flawed. Her mind ran in circles, as she guessed, and second guessed every action she'd taken since awakening in Thedas. It was maddening. Still, it was better than simply staring at Fenris' unmoving form as her mind conjured nightmare images of the elf finally succumbing to death.

It had taken very little to convince Hawke to track Alon down once his hangover faded. Merrill had been the one to convince him that Luna was still their willing ally. There was just one problem … there was NO sign of the traitor and the weeks dragged on with no hint to his whereabouts. It was enough to make her want to tear her hair out. There was no clue indicating where he'd fled and Luna seriously doubted that it meant they'd heard the last of him. It left her in a constant state of alarm and the stress of looking over her shoulder and jumping at every shadow was wearing on her.

Whenever Hawke or Anders kicked her out of the mansion for being a nuisance Luna stalked Kirkwall singlemindedly.  Using every contact she'd developed since arriving in the hopes of locating the thief she slunk through Darktown alone.  She shook down every shady character, gang member, and would be thug unfortunate enough to cross her path. Every evening she returned empty handed and frustrated. Turrik and his associates were less than helpful though the smuggler volunteered to keep an eye out. She cringed remembering the look of pity he'd leveled at her when asking after Fenris. Luna may or may not have been more aggressive than necessary with everyone after that.

Her position as Ambassador afforded her more leverage in certain circles and she took full advantage, though trade negotiations had stalled. She arranged to buy Fenris' mansion from the city and hired workers to clean and repair the building. Luna planned on giving the building to Fenris, and went so far as to put his name on the deed. Aveline had been a great help there, bypassing the fact she had given prized property to an elf and former slave, without batting an eye. She did warn Luna that Fenris might be given a hard time regardless if he decided to keep it, but Luna figured Varric could just help him sell it after … after she was gone.

She wasn't sure how she would broach the subject with Fenris let alone the rest of her companions. It wasn't enough for her to leave Kirkwall. If Alon was correct, then she may already have started a chain of events that would result in the cascading collapse of the entire timeline. Time … what a mess.

_Oh come now … you knew it couldn't last forever. Shamans aren't meant to be happy. All we really have are brief and shining moments. What matters is that we seize those moments when they arrive ... and know when to let them go for the greater good.  
_

Alistair's last letter hadn't been very promising though he did mention knowing a Bard that was looking into Alon's disappearance for him. Luna, preoccupied by her own self resentment, failed to realize that Alistair had been referring to Leliana until much later. Varric's underground network had no more luck than the Broker's agents in locating Alon's whereabouts. More irksome and baffling still was the fact that many of them couldn't seem to remember Alon at all. It was as though he'd simply vanished, or perhaps never existed in the first place. They had depleted every contact and back alley dealer between them all.

Yet another dreary evening arrived and she waited impatiently for Anders to arrive while slumping in the comfortable chair by the fireplace. She derived no joy upon recognizing the room used in every romantic cutscene of Dragon Age II.  Her thoughts had grown more melancholy with each passing day and the dark bedroom did little to cheer her. The sting of medicinal herbs hung above the bed filled her senses but she endured for Fenris' sake. She owed him at least that much. Suddenly a voice broke the oppressive silence. “Water ...”

Luna bolted upright at Fenris' croaking request and leapt to ladle some into a small wooden cup for him. She held the cup to his dry lips, tilting slowly, but he grabbed the drink from her hands. He drank the offering greedily, coughing as he swallowed too quickly. She smiled at him encouragingly as he caught his breath.

“It's about time you woke up,” she snarked as he stared at her intensely. He struggled to sit up and she helped him, propping him against a veritable wall of pillows to make him more comfortable.

“What happened,” he said as he blinked, trying to focus his eyes in the gloom. “We … we headed to the Hanged Man … I remember Alon attacking you.”

_So his memory was affected as well. Damn. That's the whole crew. I guess I should be grateful he remembers Alon attacking me, at least I have another witness._

“Alon betrayed us … he drugged us. I was immune.” She delivered the news in clipped tones, refusing to look Fenris in the eyes. “I fought him, but he got away. You've been in a coma for weeks.”

Fenris reached for her hand and she held her breath. “You haven't been sleeping.” It had been easy to bottle up her frustration until this moment. His concern broke her resolve causing a tear to track down her cheek, and was quickly followed by another, and another. She clenched her jaw as she tried to reign herself in and she barely succeeded in stemming the oncoming tide.

“I'm so sorry Fenris. This is all my fault.” He didn't' say anything, only gripping her hand tighter, though it still shocked her that he was so weak. Her confession flew out of her before she could stop herself. “Alon … he's like me, he has abilities and he lied to me about it. He drew on your Lyrium while you slept, and I had to draw on you as well to defeat him. You almost died because of me.” Luna closed her eyes, dislodging yet another tear as she made her bitter proposal. “You were right all along. It would be safer if … you just killed me,” she whispered.  She hadn't intended to be so blunt about it but perhaps it was better to rip it off like a band-aid.

The elven warrior glared at her, his aura unreadable, as he uttered a single word in response. “No.”

Luna met his gaze and she spoke again; her prepared arguments fueled by grief and paranoia. “My people don't belong here.” Luna said as she smiled at him sadly; her eyes still watering. “You don't remember everything that happened … but Alon was right about one thing. I know too much. I've been running on luck, and when it ran out Hope paid the price for my arrogance.  Look what I did in Fereldan … it was purely selfish.”

Fenris sat straighter, leaning towards her as he spoke, finding new strength as they argued. “You restored a rightful ruler to his throne, and destroyed Fereldan's slave trade. These are not the actions of a selfish woman.”

“You don't understand.” Luna shook her head despairingly. “No matter my intentions … I can't help myself. I meddle.” She bit her lip to stop its trembling and shut her eyes to ward off more tears. “Even being here … now, with you. It's wrong of me, and I know it. But I can't seem to help myself. I can't stay away. I'm risking Thedas' future. It would be safer for everyone involved if I'd never COME here at ALL.”

Luna was surprised when Fenris roughly pulled her onto the bed and cradled her against himself. “No,” he growled again. She didn't move, too stunned by his possessive action to resist.

“How can you say that? You almost died because of me, because of MY choices ...”

Fenris huffed impatiently. “You didn't do this to me. From what I can recall the blame lies firmly at Alon's feet. How could you ask me to end your life?” He choked out the last sentence, clearly pained by her extreme request.

She tried again, her voice breaking with emotion. “I don't want to die but you're the only one I'd trust to ...”

“Never,” he barked out, his arms tightening around her. She went rigid, startled by his vehemence. “Don't ask this of me. That is no longer an option. Not for me,” he whispered, his voice dropping almost too low for her to hear. Luna's face flushed bright red at his declaration.

“Fenris … I ...” Luna clung to him, burying her face in his tunic, and shuddered as relief warred with her guilt. She stayed there, listening to his heart beat, willing herself away from her darker thoughts. It was easier to let go of her fears wrapped safely in his arms. “I'm sorry.” With that, all of the tension left her body, and she folded herself into his embrace. Now rather than clinging to a source of guilt she was instead enveloped by his warmth and tenderness. She found it surprising that these traits were so strong within him and the discovery made her care for him more deeply. If she ever doubted her choices again, she would look back, and remember this.

They didn't say anything more and simply held one another through the night. How long they stayed that way, each lost to their own thoughts, was anyone's guess. Both had drifted off to sleep by the time Anders arrived with his potions.  He smiled wistfully at the weary couple and chose not to wake them. This wasn't the pairing he would have preferred, but she deserved to be happy, even if only for a moment.

* * * * *

They struggled up the mountain, using the mist that gathered there as cover from prying satellites and finicky drones. The trails they walked were old, carved centuries ago; first by game, later by small tribes of hunter gatherers, then left unused in a modern era. The air grew colder each day and though she hadn't told Flynn about it yet, they were running out of food.

She scavenged what she could of the local plant-life, looking for anything still edible this time of year. It was the wrong season for berries, and they would only be able to last so long even with the addition of dandelion and clover to their diet. Cattails would be too aged, the woody stalks unpalatable unless ground into flour. She found a small patch of chickweed but the mature leaves would need to be cooked before they were eaten and they couldn't afford to stop.

Determined to make the most of it she gathered everything she could lay her hands on as they continued to hike. Flynn wasn't stupid and she noticed him quietly following her example, harvesting anything she identified as safe. It created a strange rhythm; hiking, foraging, hiking, foraging. It was the awakening of a long dormant instinct, buried, but not forgotten.

She had a vague idea of where the nearest **Sanctum** should be though navigating the old fashioned way wasn't quite as accurate as a GPS. Then again, a paper map wouldn't run out of batteries … or let them be tracked. Flynn coughed again as they rounded a boulder and she frowned knowingly. The rattling in his lungs was growing, the sound worried her, and she had been looking out for cold remedies for several days. Luckily she still had some pain killers that she forced him to take, but that would do nothing for the worsening cough.

They arrived at the designated rendezvous late that night and she scanned the surroundings with her **Sight** nervously. Her Magesight caused the nearby cave to practically glow, and she willed her pounding heart to calm. The charms were still in place, which meant no **Sleeper** or technology had breached them. It was a good sign that the **Shroud** hadn't found it; therefore it should still safe to enter.

She cautiously approached what appeared to be the sheer rock wall of a cliff. Double checking that nothing had dispelled the protective enchantment she then gestured for her son to follow. Taking his hand she strode directly at the wall of stone. There was no ripple, no wave of energy, nor did the world mark their passing. One moment they stood outside, and then next they were simply gone. 

Having passed through the illusion without incident she and Flynn continued down the carved passageway. It was much warmer in the man made cavern than it had been beneath the open sky. Seeing wasn't a problem as it seemed to be lit by a diffuse, omnipresent, magical radiance with no discernible source. 

“Who goes there?!” A young man stood before her suddenly; a double barreled shotgun aimed directly at her. 

“Who goes there??” It was a ridiculous question, and she lost her composure, giving a full belly laugh as his face fell. “Here's a better question, who trained you and how did they fail so miserably.” 

The dark haired man sighed in relief, smiling at her in return. “Well, she's a lousy dancer, has the temper of a troll, and bad taste in men. Also she has horrible breath.” 

She rolled her eyes saying, “Oh, har, har. Seriously. Who goes there? If I HAD been with the **Shroud** I doubt they would have answered you with anything less than gunfire you moron.” 

“I know, not my best idea … but we didn't exactly agree to a pass-code. I said there should have been pass-codes.” 

“There aren't enough of us left to justify them and you know it.” She said grimly before feigning a smile for Flynn's sake and changing the subject. “Speaking of which ... how's your wife? Last I heard you two had a new addition to our ranks on the way." 

"She looks 'bout ready to pop any day now," he said, worry creeping into his voice.  "I'm sure glad you made it.  I don't know if I could have handled that on my own." 

That brought her up short.  "You're ... you're here alone?"  His sombre look was enough of an answer. 

Flynn began coughing again saying, “Mom … I'm really dizzy. Can we please sit down?” He began to sway and the man tossed her the gun, lifting the boy with ease before he could fall. 

“I can walk ...” Flynn wheezed with a stubborn set to his jaw. 

“Uh huh, and I'm the fuckin' Easter bunny.” 

She snorted at that saying, “You've been around my kid for five seconds and you couldn't stop yourself from dropping the f-bomb? You're going to be a shit father. Besides … the Easter bunny is cuter.” Flynn looked at her questioningly as they headed toward the main chamber. She knew he'd noted how familiar they were with each other and his head was probably swimming with questions. 

The man nodded a greeting to the sick child who continued to stare at him in confusion. “Pleased to meet you. Don't worry, we're going to be great friends, I can tell.” 

“Ass.” Squeezing her son's hand reassuringly she finally introduced them. “Alon meet Flynn. Flynn this is my best friend Alon,” she said with a grin. “Don't worry, the guy's smarter than he looks.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sanctum - **A safe house for the Gifted, a sanctuary of magic for those who wield it.**
> 
> Sleeper - **A person that sleepwalks through life unawakened to the world of magic (A Muggle for all you Harry Potter fans)**
> 
> The Shroud - **A powerful religious cult bent on ridding Earth of all Magic by any means necessary**


	46. DRAGON!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna meet Dragon. Havoc!
> 
> This episode brought to you by animal planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who didn't read last chapter's comments my laptop's Wi-fi has officially fried. I tried to find a program so I wouldn't lose the formatting when transferd to my phone, alas to no avail. *glares at her internet*
> 
> Fear not!!! I was stubborn and have just spent the last 2 hours reformatting it anyway, fighting autocorrect to the death, and thumb pecking my tiny tiny keyboard. Oh the things I do for some commentary and kudos. :p
> 
> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
>  Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
>  Credits and links also in end notes.

“AhhH!”  Luna dove behind a boulder barely avoiding the sulphorus, fiery breath weapon of the small dragon that had taken up residence in the Bone Pit.   Even the smoke that lingered in the air was noxious and she reminded herself for the hundreth time to hold her breath.  Varric practically landed on top of her and she winced as pain lanced up her abused hip.  “Varric you feel like a sack of rocks!  You're not even wearing plate armor, get OFF!” 

“I'm a dwarf Tricky, of course I'm heavy,  though I'll keep your offer in mind,” Varric said with a wink as he clambered off of her. 

Luna blinked in confusion for a moment before it dawned on her.  “Oh you pervert.”  Hawke was laughing like a madman as he flung another bolt at the beast before backpedaling out of range as its gargantuan tail sought to flatten him.  “FUCK YOU TOO HAWKE,” she yelled chuckling all the while. 

Hawke gave her a two fingered salute as he found another outcropping to shield himself.  “So generous with your attentions milady? I'm not sure Fenris or Anders would approve but if you insist I'm sure we could put our heads together and come up with something.”  He braced himself as the dragon attempted to claw him out of his hidey-hole and began stabbing it with the end of his staff. 

Meanwhile Anders slapped the feathers on his robes to put out the flames that had caught there as everyone laughed.  “What's wrong Lady Ambassador?  Is the tour not to your liking,” Anders asked as he failed miserably at hiding the mirth in his tone. 

“Oh, yes, Hawke truly takes me to the nicest places!”  Luna wiped the sweat from her face with a groan.  That had been far too close for comfort, and her heart was still racing uncomfortably.  “I told you there was still another one.  But NooOooOOooo ...”  The dragon hit the stone she was behind hard enough to rattle her teeth and send the dwarf falling backward. 

_I take it back.  There is no such thing as a 'little' dragon._

“Is this really the time to discuss this,”  Fenris roared.  The elf struck the beast several times on what was presumably the softer underbelly, but only a few pierced with enough force to injure it.  The blade tended to skid across the hardened scales and Luna found herself admiring how quickly he avoided its wickedly sharp talons.  She also found herself wondering what kind of dragon this actually was, she'd never really thought about it while playing the game on Earth. 

_Not important right now.  Kill first, peruse memory lane for trivia later._

Fighting the dragon had actually been HER idea, but it was definitely more fun to blame Hawke.  She had craved a distraction, and when she heard that the miners in his employ had gone missing again she'd immediately volunteered to help him clear the caverns out … for a small fee.  Did it make her a horrible person that she'd only thought of the dragon, and not the families of those poor workers? 

Probably not.  To be honest Varric's exaggerations in the Hanged Man had mislead her into assuming he'd already slain this particular beast.  Of course it had turned out he'd only really gotten the ones the size of **alligators** though she still wished she'd been able to warn him in advance. 

“What's an **Aloe-Gayytir**?”  Varric's question startled her and she groaned as she realized she'd been speaking out loud again.  That was a truly horrible habit to have when trying to keep secrets … and Luna still had many, many secrets she was keeping.  That would probably never change, she was slow to trust people,and her experiences in Thedas had only solidified that fact. 

Luckily she and Fenris had discussed her supposed influence on Thedas until she thought her head would explode.  Not to mention the disturbing dreams revealing she had apparently lost a larger chunk of memory than she'd realized.  How could someone simply carve all trace of themselves out of another's mind like that?  Disturbing as the thought was, if an individual was comprised of their memories, would they remain the same person without those pieces of themselves?  Was she truly Diana at all or was Luna an apt description of all that remained? 

Ultimately she had decided … not to think about it.  It was all too big for her, she wasn't going to sweat it.  Besides which if Alon's theory had any merit all Thedas would have long since imploded due simply to their presence.  There was no such thing as fate except what one clawed out for themselves.  If she had been doing something wrong, there had been ample opportunity for several higher beings to point it out to her.  At least … she assumed that was the case.  So she answered Varric without further delay.  “An **alligator** is like a drake, only with a much shorter neck, and proportionally lengthier head.  It has eighty sharp teeth at any given time, and they tend to live in swamps and rivers … conveniently just beneath the surface so you easily mistake them for logs.” 

“You're kidding.” 

“Nah, we even have a type of river fish named after them.  They have a double row of sharp teeth on their upper jaw that are visible when closed making them look similar. They're scales are these little pieces of bone, they grow ten feet long and weigh about twenty stone.  Scary looking, but pretty harmless." 

“Remind me never to visit this nightmare world of yours Tricky.” 

They charged the dragon again, tearing its attention away from the others to give them a breather.  Its talons scraped against the stones, making her teeth and head ache.   Its roar shook her bones, and she fought to keep her feet.  The sound was enough to take her breath away; as though it shut off the part of her brain that told her how to perform simple actions.  She skipped and danced her way back to cover when one of those claws caught her across the cheek.  Varric skidded in beside her just as Anders began his next onslaught. 

She healed her wound without much thought and continued their interrupted conversation with a grin.  “Oh that's nothing.  Wait until you hear about **HIPPOS** , now THOSE are truly terrifying. Mouth full of tusk like teeth, four of them as big as my forearm, and great gray skinned bulbous bodies ... like an inflated cow weighing over two hundred and thirty stone.  They seem fairly docile … and that makes them far more dangerous.  They float around rivers in packs.” 

“More dangerous than a dragon?"  Varric stared at her incredulously before shaking it off.  “You're making that up.”  He launched a barrage of well placed crossbow bolts at the fire breathing monstrosity and ducked back down with a curse.  The searing heat of the flames flowing above them reminded Luna of a blast furnace.  Hawke cast an impressive looking spell that Luna was almost positive was blood magic.  She was going to have a long talk with both Merrill and the Champion after this little quest about their new extracurricular activities. 

“Adorable, swollen gray cows that appear harmless.  Tell me, is every creature in your world trying to kill you,” Anders asked while patching a nasty looking cut on his arm.  They were all beginning to show the wear and tear of prolonged combat. 

“Maybe ... thing is, we have no dragons, but even WE know that they will kill you. That's why everyone stays far enough away.   **Hippos** look like something you could pet.  They're responsible for more deaths than any other animal on that particular continent.  If you think **hippos** are made up you'll just LOVE the **platypus**. Don't even get me started on the region THEY'RE from."

Luna winked at Varric with a grin and charged the dragon while it was distracted by Hawke's showboating.  Let them believe she was making it up.  Seeing an opening she threw herself at its eye and ignored the slimy pop of her dagger embedding itself there.  The dragon reared, throwing her back and away, and she scrambled to right herself as it thrashed about, searching for her. 

Fenris lunged again drawing it away from where she lay in a heap of protesting bone and muscle.  Then it was a game of 'avoid flaming horrendous death' again.  When she was able to crawl back to their mutual hiding spot; Varric was favoring his trigger hand.  The dragon's breath seemed to have burned right through the layers of gear meant to protect it.  It looked extremely painful and she reached for the bleeding and blistered appendage.  He winced as she began removing the remnants of his glove as he hissed, “Looks like we're not smart enough to stay away from them.  I think you only pissed it off.  Now … what's a **bladderpuss**?" 

Luna snickered at Varric's unintentional conjunction as he raised an eyebrow and she began tracing the intricate Sigils.  Healing a dwarf seemed to come easier to her than Anders.  It probably had something to do with Earth's higher resistance to the bending of static reality.  She would need to test her theory later.  Sweat beaded on Varric's brow, and she knew he was in agony.  Too bad healing a wound could be MORE painful than receiving it in the first place with her abilities.  Still Varric seemed to appreciate the speed at which she could get him back into one piece. 

"A **PLATYPUS** ,” she corrected absently, eyeing the raging dragon as it incinerated everything not guarded by stone.  They had already mauled one of its wings so there was no danger of it flying off.  At least … she was pretty sure that was a good thing.  “It's a furry, venomous animal the size of a house cat that lays eggs instead of giving birth to live pups.  It looks like someone sewed several different kinds of animals together randomly and said … hey look … it's … ALIVE!  Think … fuzzy nug with a long flat tail, a bird's **bill** ,” she mimed a duck's bill as she didn't know their word for it.  She had yet to encounter anything with a bill in Thedas. “... and webbed feet.  It also dwells in water, actually … I'm sensing a theme here.” 

“Venom??? From its _**becca**_?”  Varric followed her example and used his hand to mime a bird's beak. 

_Eh, close enough.  Come to think of it … Do they even HAVE ducks here?_

“Actually its in the male's hind ankles,” she laughed, sidestepping the issue. 

“That … do you mind if I use that?” 

The last of the blisters were fading away to rosy pink skin and she smiled at her handiwork.   Varric grunted in appreciation and she willed the last of the Sigils to fade with a sweep of her hand.  It wasn't really necessary to wave her limbs about for an effect, but she had to admit it looked more impressive that way.  Years of stage magic, movies, and later video games couldn't all be wrong.  “Heh, sure.  If you think your publishers will like it.  You can say a crazy Magister made it … but make it the size of a house.  Those are always fun.”  She nodded ironically towards the house sized animal that was currently trying to kill them all. 

“LOOK OUT!”  Anders sounded more than a little frazzled and she reflexively reacted to the warning, pulling Varric with her.  The healer threw a barrier over them and she reminded herself to thank him profusely later. 

She and Varric rolled out the way just as the dragon managed to shatter the rock they'd been previously hiding behind.  So much for that reprieve. The tail swept them off their feet and she was airborne for the second time that day.  The landing wasn't nearly so rough as her earlier impromptu flight and she counted her blessings.  Oh, yes, she was definitely baking Anders a cake.  Rum cake if she could find Fenris' stash of the glorious liquid again.  The elf had taken to hiding it from her lately and it turned out to be her FAVORITE Thedosian alcohol. 

The Dragon had taken quite a few hits by this point.  Fenris and Hawke had not stopped their advances while she healed the dwarf.  Its face in particular was a mess, and she sighed as she noticed her dagger was no longer lodged there.  That would be the third one this month she'd lost, and she was getting a little tired of replacing them.  It was while staring at the bloody, gaping socket that she remembered her favorite Origins trailer and got a chill down her spine. 

“HAWKE!  Keep it distracted!  I have an idea,” she screamed over another of its earth shaking roars.  “Anders cast something, ANYTHING straight at me!”  She ran out into the open without checking to see whether they listened to her.  Luna trusted the others to do as she asked.  They would keep it occupied for as long as possible. Taking a page straight out of Morrigan's book, she began charging the largest bolt of lightning she'd ever attempted. 

She planted her feet, cupped her hands near one another, and started channeling power into her palms.  Mana began pouring into her as the barrier around her collapsed and several consecutive **Arcane Bolts** hit her squarely in the back.  Dark ominous clouds gathered overhead; seemingly from nowhere.  Luna's hair stood on end, her eyes began to glow, and the ozone scent around her built as the charge grew.  Anders continued to assault her with magic and she absorbed it all.  Small stones and pebbles skipped across the ground, only to hover, spinning in place like mad puppets.  Just as it began to lose cohesion she aimed for the dragon's eye socket and unleashed the full fury bequeathed to her by a Storm God. 

A torrent of electricity flew from her outstretched fingers with a thunderous crack that made the hairs on her arms stand up.  Simultaneously a jagged bolt descended from the sky, joining hers.  Luna's companions cringed while guarding their ears as the lightning struck true.  The kill shot was everything she had imagined it could be.  Lightning tore into its brain, causing the Dragon to rear up, and finally collapse as it let out a final gurgling sigh.  Smaller bolts bloomed along its body, opening previously superficial wounds that now poured blood as well.  It was spectacular, and she would remember it for the rest of her life.  Nothing would ever quite compare to slaying your first dragon. 

The only thing she hadn't really expected was the smell.  It was truly horrid.  Charred flesh?  Check.  Burnt hair smell from demolished scales?  Check.  Putrid stench strong enough to burn the nostril hairs off a creature from the pits of hell???  She had definitely NOT bargained on that surprise.  The electricity had caused severe muscle spasms in the dying dragon's body that, upon the creature's death, resulted in a spectacular … evacuation.  The entire party was recoiling in disgust. 

“Oh gods ...” she lamented loudly while pinching her nose shut.  “*And I thought they smelled bad … on the outside.”   She tried not to laugh.  Laughing would only make it worse … but how could she NOT?  Breathing was also out of the question and she futilely backed a step away. 

“Andraste's flaming ass Tricky.  I didn't know you had a spell that conjured poisonous fumes.”  Varric devolved into a coughing fit, his eyes tearing up while he attempted to find someplace upwind.  The ominous skies were not cooperating, the air in this particular canyon were currently stagnant, and likely would be that way until the conjured clouds dissipated … or perhaps when the sun set. 

_This is what I get for neglecting weather working in my studies.  One breeze would be enough to clear this up dammit.  Guess I'm adding that to my ever lengthening to-do-list._

“I'm going to need to burn my tongue right out of my head,” Hawke said, trying not to gag as he attempted to flee the scene of the crime. “It feels fuzzy!  Is it supposed to feel fuzzy?!”  Anders walked by her with more dignity, both hands over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he tried to contain his laughter.  Luna plucked a charred feather from his shoulders but he didn't even stop to complain.  Feeling a little dejected she paused to look at the remains of their fearsome foe. 

Maybe if she held her breath long enough she could snag a single scale, or maybe a tooth?  Fenris grabbed her gently by the wrist, and insistently pulled her away from the corpse when she tried to linger.  “ ** _Fasta Vass_** woman! Nothing can willingly approach it for some time.  We can always return.”  She nodded at him with a grimace.  It was supposed to be a smile, but the longer they stayed in the vicinity, the more ill she felt.  They hurried after the others though she couldn't keep herself from looking back. 

_Yup.  Never … never-EVER going to forget slaying my very first dragon.  Worth it. Definitely worth it!_

When they cleared the mines it was easier to breath and she began checking Fenris for injuries.  The stubborn elf had at least two bleeding cuts and she grumbled as she healed them shut.  Looking up from her work she smiled as Fenris tucked her hair behind her ear until she saw his expression.  “What is it,” she asked nervously. 

“They are somewhat larger … but I don't believe you need hide these from our comrades any longer.”  She was even more confused when he glanced pointedly at her rear.  She placed both hands on her backside with a sinking feeling and turned her head to catch a glimpse of what he could possibly be referring to.  It was simple enough to spot … Luna had busted the seam of her trousers, and had grown a white fox tail … easily as long as her arm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Common  
>  becca : **beak or hook**
> 
> Tevene  
>  Fasta Vass : **Untranslated curse in Tevene**
> 
> ***“And I thought they smelled bad … on the outside.” - **Star Wars reference!!! Specifically the scene where Han Solo cuts open a Taun Taun with a lightsaber on Hoth.**


	47. Parting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the opposite of fluff?! Because, yeah, I've somehow managed to write ... that. Please don't hate me. *Throws chapter at you and hides*
> 
> **This chapter has been edited to clarify Fenris' reasoning.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

There was a discernible tension in the air, something visceral, pressing on the world and demanding her attention. It was like waking up and realizing her alarm clock would be going off in mere seconds. She would lay there, staring at the ceiling, and wait as wakefulness fully asserted itself. It would herald the beginning of her day, as she clung desperately to those last moments of peace before the silence was shattered by the inexorable chiming of the bell.

Luna shifted uncomfortably, allowing her hair to fall back over her ear, as Fenris continued to glare at her. The others were pretending not to listen in, but she had little doubt they were paying close attention. Suddenly feeling very self conscious she tried to obscure their view of the bushy addition to her behind. “Why didn't you SAY anything?!” She hissed at Fenris, her agitation sending her tail dancing like that of a nervous feline.

“Why didn't I say anything? Why didn't YOU,” he growled not even attempting to lower his volume. “You are the one sprouting new and unexpected body parts. How can you possibly make this about ME?” He gestured at her new tail and she instantly readied herself for a fight. Luna was startled by his aggressive tone and attitude. “You continue to lie to me; to keep secrets!”

She furrowed her brow and snapped back at him in agitation. “When was I supposed to tell you about this Fenris? During the battle with the dragon? Or maybe while we were fleeing its aftermath? I didn't even have this THING until a few minutes ago!”

“And I am supposed to simply believe that,” he snarled.

Luna gaped at Fenris, truly hurt by his sudden, erratic behavior. “Are you hearing yourself??! How could I POSSIBLY have been hiding a TAIL this entire time?! I wear skin tight breeches, where could I have hidden it?!”

Fenris crossed his arms stating, “That's a question for another time.” She couldn't believe what she was hearing from him. “It does not change that you have a tail at all! It suggests, in fact, that there is a great deal about you that I DO NOT KNOW! Concealing such may just be a matter of course for you!”

She felt as if the world were dropping out from under her. Luna had known Fenris still harbored questions about her past … but this … his low opinion of her character, hurt more than she had thought possible. “This ... you don't trust me,” she whispered in dejection.

Fenris didn't seem phased in the slightest by the change in her demeanor. His anger seemed cold, and almost aloof. Their debates had always burned hot, passionate, driving them closer together even as they sparred. This was unlike their previous fights and it scared her.

“Trust, is EARNED. What am I supposed to think,” he asked calmly. “The fact you've deceived us is as plain as that tail.”

“You think I'm an Abomination,” she ground out, hurt lacing every word. Surely they were past this. “How can you THINK that?!”

"Is that your idea of a confession?”

“NO, I'm NOT an Abomination!”

“Yet you have never offered an alternative ...”

She could feel a headache building already and just wanted the fight to be over and done with … but her temper was well and truly kindled now. She knew she shouldn't say it. Everything was screaming at her internally not to, but she did it anyway. Her building resentment had needed an outlet for some time, and of course she couldn't do it in a normal, healthy conversation about their relationship. No, instead she chose to escalate the situation.

Her accent thickened as she grew more furious. “REALLY?! Maybe because we never TALK! We fight, we FUCK,” he flinched and she couldn't help the satisfaction she drew in seeing it. “... and then we ignore the silence between us. You want to talk about lies?! You said you didn't CARE that I was different!” Luna choked on a building sob, clenching her jaw as she awaited his rebuttal.

“So it's MY fault you hid this, from us … from ME?” Fenris began to pace back and forth.

“I didn't HIDE THIS and I'm NOT AN ABOMINATION!!” She snapped again as her tail fluffed out to twice its normal size. “How AM I supposed to tell you anything!? If love is the one true language YOU,” she poked him to emphasize her points and continued, “... are a blind, deaf, mute!“ She regretted it the moment she said it.

“Well you haven't objected to the body language thus far,” Fenris said narrowing his eyes at her.

Luna fought the urge to punch the cold look off of his face. “NO, but YOU'RE just objecting to the BODY! Did it never occur to you that if you bothered to ASK me I might have TOLD YOU anything you wanted to know?!”

“ASK YOU!? You cannot be serious. What scenario, exactly, would require I broach the question, 'do you have a tail?' Some information should be volunteered!”

“The only information you seem interested in hearing from me is 'my place, or YOURS,” she roared. His jaw moved as if to speak but for a moment no words issued forth.

Finally, he continued in a subdued voice, as though uttering each word were painful. "Truly? Every piece of your past must be pulled from you with great effort. You trust no one until it is absolutely necessary. You allow no one to KNOW you.” Fenris was no longer yelling.

"How can you say that, you know me better than anyone."

"Who is Flynn?" he shot back.

The question hit her like a freight train. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come, so she snapped, her jaw shut again. Fenris' shoulders slumped with her choice.

"That's exactly what I mean. You prattle on for hours, about strategy, and tactics, but you tell us nothing of yourself. Then you accuse me of not opening up to you?" He shook his head in frustration.

Luna was too stunned by his accusations to think clearly and she babbled out, “The last time I tried to be honest, Alon attacked us!” Realizing he didn't remember that night she pinched the bridge of her nose and tried again. “Yes! Alright, I keep secrets from everyone! I TOLD you there were things I couldn't divulge.”

"What is your actual family name? What was your occupation? Were you a noble?" Fenris paused, looking deeply into her eyes. "Did you have siblings? Where did you learn to play music? What was your home like?"

Luna felt ill. She didn't want to think about these questions. "My world is too complicated, too dangerous! You wouldn't understand!"

"You wouldn't even let me try! Why not simply tell me Flynn is your son?"

"I don't ... I don't know," she breathed.

"Yet you could tell your Alstair." She gaped at Fenris in shock.

"I ... that's different. He figured it out for himself." This did not have a placating effect on the situation at all. She gestured at her tail blurting, “I mean he ... Look, I didn't think it would manifest physically … I wasn't ready."

Fenris reached out to touch her face as she grew more distressed, only to stop himself, clenching his hand into a fist and lowering it to his side. “Apparently … neither was I. It's … this is too much. I cannot ... DO this.” Fenris shook his head sadly, looked at her with detached acceptance, and stalked past the others without looking back.

Luna's throat tightened, her mouth acting of its own volition. “Where are you going?! Fenris?” She was embarrassed as her voice cracked slightly.

“I'm sorry.” He said with finality, and walked away. A yawning chasm seemed to open in her stomach and she watched in disbelief as he simply … left. The words he used, so similar to those she'd heard a hundred times in another life, felt like a slap.

“Fenris ...” She had never seen Fenris so dismissive of her, even when he had hated her, he had at least acknowledged her presence. Strangely pointed teeth and ears he could deal with, but a tail … that was crossing some invisible line they'd never discussed. “So that's it then? It's over?” Her questions were tinged with false bravado that even she could hear.

Luna stared after him in shock and growing distress. The others were still watching her closely, and she struggled to control her raging emotions. It was bad enough there had been witnesses to another of their spats, but this …. this was intolerable. Her sight blurred; her heart stabbing her with every treacherous beat. She couldn't help the soft, whimpering keen she emitted as she felt her heart break.

_He … he left me. Just like that? But I love ... I thought … I'm such an idiot. Why do I do this to myself. I …. oh gods … he doesn't love me. I knew better … I SHOULD have known better than to get close to anyone._

“Luna,” Anders approached as though she were a wounded animal and she felt her temper spike.

“Well at least you and Fenris finally agree on something. Of course, why didn't I see it before? I am utterly repellent,” she said through gritted teeth. She wasn't really angry at Anders … she knew that, but she was hurting, and she wanted someone to blame.

Anders gaped at her like a landed fish. “That's not … I never said you were …”

“You didn't NEED to,” she growled, startling the Mage.

“I'm sure if you were to speak to Fenris,” Anders began but she interrupted him.

She imagined she felt a fist around her heart; squeezing tighter at the mention of the elf's name. “He's made his intentions clear. I'll not dishonor myself by chasing after someone who clearly doesn't want me.” She bit her own tongue, trying to will herself to shut up, and tasted the tang of blood.

“I call him Broody for a reason Tricky. Just give him a little time, I'm sure he'll come around.” Varric's sympathetic looks would have been more convincing if he didn't keep glancing at her new fur.

“Time doesn't fix everything _**Durgen'len**_. Just drop it. I should have known better than to … nevermind. It doesn't matter. You all have questions ...” She turned to face her friends and buried what she was feeling with everything else that had gone wrong. Her life was such a disaster, why would her relationship with Fenris end any differently. Pulling her tail into full view she noted how soft the fur was. It was full of beautiful, varying shades of silver and white. She hated it, almost as much as she hated herself.

Hawke cleared his throat saying, “Well … you have … a tail.”

“Really, I hadn't noticed Hawke,” she retorted sarcastically. She spat the blood from her mouth and tried to calm herself. “I'm not human, obviously. I never claimed to be. I DID say I was from another WORLD ...” The look she gave them practically screamed, 'I told you so.'

He nodded contemplatively, saying, “And that you are considered a half-breed.” Luna didn't bother to correct his assumption, let them draw their own conclusions. She was done giving them anything more to hurt her with.

“Why didn't you have one before?” Anders reached out gently to touch it and she recoiled. He smiled sheepishly and backed away, giving her space.

She indicated the tunnels leading to the slain dragon. “I've never done anything THAT reckless or powerful before … but that's only a guess.” Luna never wanted to think about dragons ever again, the memory was forever sullied by this day. “And before you ask, no I don't know if it's permanent. I've never had one manifest … not while I was awake anyway.”

Anders looked at her questioningly. “But your connection to the Fade ...”

“I still haven't been to the Fade Anders,” she said in exasperation. This seemed to confuse him but he let it go.

She let him think she was only speaking of dreams. They already thought she was an Abomination, telling them that she had visited the Void, would only cement that view. Not to mention that she'd apparently traversed said darkness, to personally pierce the Veil, and arrive in Thedas in the first place. Trying to explain that she actually SPOKE to her Gods there would probably convince them she was a lunatic or inherently evil. How could she EVER trust ANY of them with these things?

_You're only proving that annoying elf right by doing this._

_No, I'm protecting myself from being hurt again and protecting them from making a huge mistake by not listening to me._

_If you say so._

_I do, now shut up and go away. I don't want to think right now._

_You never do._

“I said SHUT UP!” she hissed, grabbing the sides of her head, and looked up into the concerned faces of her startled companions. “Sorry. Just. Nevermind. I'm thinking too loud.” That didn't alleviate their concern.

Eyeing her oddly Varric nodded. “This is what the crazy woman meant. The one we found you with in the Holding Caves.” He held her gaze and she knew that he was worried about her sanity in that moment. As if she didn't have enough on her mind. Now they would be watching her with greater vigilance than ever. It would be just like when they rescued her from Hadriana all over again. “She said she was a lion … and that YOU ... were a fennec.” He waved at her tail to make his point.

Luna blinked, she hadn't thought Varric had heard that, let alone that he'd remember it. “Yes ...” Gathering what little dignity she had remaining she pulled the last of her green cloth from her overstuffed pack. She had torn most of it into bandages but there was enough left for her purposes. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she'd purchased the swath of linen. Wrapping it around herself, to keep the tail immobile, she left some of the cloth to drape like a skirt. It would have to do for now.

Hawke appraised the wrap, walking around her without a word before nodding. Slinging her pack over her shoulder the party readied to leave. Answering only direct questions she didn't offer much in the way of conversation. At least they weren't trussing her up like a prisoner. When they made camp that night Luna settled in for a restless sleep; the minutia of the argument tumbling over and over in her head.

The next morning, as she awoke to the dawn, she looked back on the fight with clearer vision. With her thoughts no longer being governed by her emotions she was able to see the truth of the matter; she was wrong. 

It hurt to admit that to herself. While Fenris could have responded better at certain points he could hardly be blamed for his reaction. She really HAD kept them all in the dark, afraid of the consequences, and afraid of how they would respond to discovering just how different she was.

Instead, however, rather than improving the situation, she had only compounded the problem. Secrets, on top of lies of omission, had bred only mistrust. With the appearance of her tail she had instantly gone from being a trusted friend to a dangerous outsider. It had lost her not only that trust, but the only real intimacy she'd had in over a decade. Throughout her entire adventure she had never felt as alien as she did now … and she didn't know how to fix it.

No one brought up what had happened between Fenris and herself the entire trip back to Kirkwall. She wasn't sure if she was grateful or upset that they weren't able to track him. How could she possibly apologize when they couldn't even find him. She only hoped that he had made it safely back to Kirkwall and hadn't met with some unfortunate accident. It felt strange to go from being furious at him to near sick with worry.

_Stubborn elf. What good is running off alone going to do? I don't want to feel this way anymore. Why couldn't I leave well enough alone. Shamans aren't meant to be happy, the sooner I accept that, the better off I'll be. We had a decent run … I should be grateful. If that's true ... then why won't it stop HURTING?_

Her mind ran in circles but always her thoughts returned to her vanished lover. Luna knew that there was no easy way to fix what was between them; if it could be salvaged at all. He had seemed so sure of himself in that moment, when he turned away from her, and it brought on a fresh wave of silent tears. Had he really meant to call off whatever it was they had? Of course he had. She knew it. Fenris knew it. Everyone that had witnessed the argument knew it.

If anyone saw her wiping her eyes with her sleeves they were too polite to say anything. Trying to distract herself from the constant heartache Luna went over what she knew of the rest of Dragon Age II. Perhaps it would distract her, and if not, she could at least finish what she had started.

_There's still no sign of Alon, and the only significant event left in the story is Anders blowing up the Chantry … and all that follows in its wake. He hasn't asked Hawke to help him acquire the bomb pieces yet, so there's still time for me to talk him out of it. I let myself be distracted by Fen … dammit why can't I stop THINKING about him??!?_

_I have to try to sway Anders at least, there's still time. I'll just need to catch him alone at the clinic. There's also still the problem of Meredith and Orsino. Hrmmm … maybe it's time I spoke with the First Enchanter. There's no reason for him to resort to creepy bloodmagic fusion monsters. It never made sense to me anyway. Kirkwall is oddly full of Bloodmages, maybe BECAUSE of Orsino? Whew … this is going to be a mess._

Kirkwall was looming ever closer. Luna, spending most of the journey lost in her own thoughts, suddenly pulled Varric aside. She had finally come to a decision she hoped she wouldn't regret. Considering her award winning choices thus far there was nothing to worry about … right? Right. “I need to tell you something.” When she saw the interest they were drawing she amended, saying, “... alone.”

“Now? You haven't exactly been chatty lately.” Despite his protests they steadily walked out of earshot.

“I know, and for that I'm sorry. It's not your fault Fenris and I are acting like children.” That made Varric chuckle and she felt herself almost smile at the sound. Shaking her head she took a deep breath and continued, “I don't know how much longer I'll be hanging around Kirkwall. Don't worry I don't intend to just vanish. There are still a few things I need to accomplish before I go. But in case things go sour, or I don't see you before it happens, I wanted to give you a heads up … errr a warning.”

“Well that's not ominous ...” Varric said crossing his arms and frowning a little.

Luna nodded. “First of all … there is going to be an explosion at the Chantry.” Varric looked like he wanted to say something but she held up a hand to forestall him. “We still have time before it happens, there are 'portents' to the coming disaster … the thing is, it needs to happen Varric.”

“That's insane. You can't expect me to ...”

“I most definitely can. Seer, remember. It needs to happen, or some even more horrible things may come to pass. I've been trying to change HOW it happens, to spare lives, but it must still take place. I'm sorry, I thought knowing it was for the greater good might help you sleep at night.” Deciding that arguing was pointless he nodded, prompting her to continue. “Secondly … Corypheus is still alive.”

Varric looked at her like she'd grown a second, evil head. “Definitely impossible. I helped to loot his corpse. He was deader than dead. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Yes. THAT body was dead.”

Varric looked like he was going to throw up. “THAT BODY?!” Luna shushed him quickly before they could draw the others' attentions.

“Yes, THAT body. He uses the darkspawn taint to ... body hop.” She used her fingers to mime two legs hopping into her opposite hand. “As long as Darkspawn blood flows, he can't be killed. He hides a part of himself in a dragon, it must be killed or … actually, I'm getting ahead of myself. You won't need to know that for … umm, I'm guessing about eight years from now. You'll know when, it'll be painfully obvious.”

Varric groaned in frustration. “Why would you tell me NOW then? Wait, just how far into the future can you see?!”

Luna gave him her most mysterious smile. “That's not your concern. Let me worry about the future.”

“Not my … look,” Varric paused, sounding tired. “I've been pretty easy going about all the WIERDNESS surrounding you up until now, but this is stretching the limits of even MY imagination. Corypheus is DEAD.”

“Believe what you will Master Tethras. Just remember what I've told you. It's all that I ask. It could save lives one day. I won't always be around you know.” Varric made a cutting off motion with his hands and stomped towards the others in a huff. The Magister must have really upset Varric for that kind of reaction. Luna sighed and wondered if she were doing the right thing. Her options were limited, so she was forced to make the best of a bad situation. She prayed she wasn't making things worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Durgen'len : **Child of the stone (dwarf)**
> 
> I'm sorry!!! I'm really sorry, I didnt want to do it!! I cried the entire time I was typing this chapter and my daughter tried everything she could think of to cheer me up. My friend says I have a serious problem. I just really think this is what would happen!


	48. INITIATIVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a Tumblr now under the same name. Link is in my profile.
> 
> For those of you who don't read the comments section, I have rewritten portions of the last chapter. Fenris reasoning should be clearer now. 
> 
> I forgot to make sure the argument had logical reasoning ... because everyone argues like that right?? lol
> 
> As you've no doubt realized by now I write this without a Beta and so sometimes my ideas don't quite come across right. Please bear with me, and thank you for all the wonderful feedback. :)
> 
> Understood Common will be written in English as Luna learns it.  
> Untranslated Common, Elvhen, and Tevene : **_Will be written like so._**  
>  Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Spells are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  English/Earth languages will be like so : **As currently shown ... you get the idea.**  
>  Translations for languages are at the end of the Chapter.  
> Credits and links also in end notes.

Fenris arrived in Kirkwall shortly after they did, joining them in the Hanged Man as though nothing had changed. They had spoken shortly to one another but the words she'd prepared died on her lips under his glaring countenance. She handed him the deed to his Mansion, informing him that it was legally his, to do with as he willed. The gift wasn't received with the happiness she'd originally anticipated but what else could she do? To be clear she HAD apologized for keeping so much to herself, and he apologized for his part in the argument, but nothing seemed resolved. Both he and Luna did their best to ignore the other after that.

In the following weeks she stopped frequenting the Hanged Man altogether. This was also the same day she finally met Sebastian; who'd taken to following the Champion around like a puppy. His hypocritical and zealous embracing of Chantry Doctrine had always bothered her, but to each his own. Still he seemed genuine and polite so she simply chose to stay far … far away lest he continue his attempts to indoctrinate her.

It took her a considerable amount of work to conceal her new tail, and sitting on it could be quite painful. She told the others that given her new 'condition' she couldn't risk exposing herself though Varric had given her a knowing look. However, the truth was that she also felt there was no sense in everyone enduring the strain between herself and Fenris.

In an attempt at distraction she buried herself in completing her self-appointed tasks over the coming weeks. There was little time before the invisible clock would finally run down. Luna was the only one that wasn't surprised when Aveline arrived to escort Hawke to be sworn in as the new Viscount. The Nobles had taken their sweet time about it as far as she was concerned. They seemed to be calling her out, appointing a Viscount simply to see if her promised negotiations would bear any fruit. They apparently thought her presence nothing more than a token gesture.

The joke was on them really. Between the Champion and her own stubborn resolve; her carefully laid plans to relocate Fereldan citizens in Denerim and the surrounding countryside quickly became a reality. Thanks to Anora's depredations there were plenty of land grants and empty homes to fill. She relayed his Royal decree, declaring the handing out of these homes free of charge, and the promise of public works with great satisfaction. Alistair had spent the interim months rebuilding portions of the Alienage and repairing long neglected sections of the city in anticipation of the influx of new labor.

On her end Luna chartered Turrik's growing fleet to ferry legitimate passengers ... much to his discomfort. He accused her of forcing him into going straight but they both knew the old dwarf was more than happy to take her coin. He had never quite convinced her that he was a hardened criminal by choice, and she found him smiling more often than not with his newfound vocation. Soon refugees crowded the docks in a bid to return to Fereldan, though just as many determined to stay in Kirkwall for the foreseeable future. Kirkwall would not dislodge the ones that had carved out a living here so easily.

Luna refused to return to Fenris' mansion, even for the few precious belongings she had stored there. Not that she bothered with purchasing a home for herself. Living out of her pack was easier, and the new public baths in the Alienage made it seem like too much effort. Instead she could often be found in Merrill's company, overseeing her businesses, or scouting Darktown. Sometimes she would sleep in the branches of the _Vhenadahl_ soothed by the magic slumbering within its branches. She also began supplying Anders' clinic for the easy excuse to be close to him. Most days the Earther spent much of her energy simply pretending to be happy. Not the exaggerated, over reactive happiness, but a general veneer of contentment.

Everyone was growing more restless and she knew that the deadline was fast approaching. Luna was distressed to discover evidence that her presence had most definitely had unintended consequences. Ser Alrik was still alive, and was pressing for the use of his Tranquil Solution once again. Making every Mage in Thedas Tranquil would be a war crime as far as she was concerned.

Anders had not been present in Kirkwall to kill the man, instead caring for Luna across the sea in Fereldan. Luna decided that she would rectify that particular situation alone. The last thing they needed was for Anders to lose control, not when they were so close. Besides which she knew the Divine had rejected the idea.

One early evening she found herself in the company of both Hawke and Anders at the docks. None of them were much for being locked in an office for long periods. Slipping their body guards had been all too easy and they had just finished going over Alistair's latest negotiating terms over a seaside picnic.

She and Hawke had hashed out a fairly decent treaty. It gave neither country unfair advantage and she was actually feeling pretty proud of their accomplishment. Then her carefully crafted illusion was shattered when a messenger breathlessly found her.. She had dropped an impassive mask in place even has her shaking hands took the familiar necklace and her prized Lute.

She needed the lie … not for others' benefit, but to keep herself from falling apart. Despite her determination to control herself … internally she was screaming. He had not even had the decency to deliver them himself, and that was more painful than anything else. Her thoughts were in turmoil as she attempted to appear normal.

_I never claimed to be perfect. The Gods know I'm always fucking up._

The ongoing feud with Fenris ate at her hard won confidence as she stared at the instrument in her hands. The look that Hawke leveled at her was full of pity but she said nothing. What WAS there to say?

The messenger had stayed, hand outstretched and she realized he was waiting for payment. Dropping a silver into the boy's outstretched palm she could no longer ignore the ache in her heart. Walking to the end of the pier she settled down with the beautiful instrument strumming it gently to tune it.

The workers gave her a wide berth and she was content to be ignored. Luna sighed, she felt weighted down, and tired. What good was feeling sorry for herself? It didn't help that she could see the Gallows from here … what was her pain compared to what was happening within those walls? The thought reminded her of one of her favorite songs, and on a whim, she played it. She was so distraught she made no attempt to control her abilities, and simply lost herself in the music.

[ **Mad World**](https://open.spotify.com/track/4sJcVmy0uaFsLupAWgGzqe?si=LLLi0AHEQz2NN24-BCQErQ) – Cover by Susan Boyle

**All around me are familiar faces**  
**Worn out places, worn out faces**  
**Bright and early for their daily races**  
**Going nowhere, going nowhere**

**Their tears are filling up their glasses**  
**No expression, No expression**  
**Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow**  
**No tomorrow, no tomorrow**

**And I find it kind of funny**  
**I find it kind of sad**  
**The dreams in which I'm dying**  
**Are the best I've ever had**  
**I find it hard to tell you**  
**I find it hard to take**  
**When people run in Circles**  
**It's a very, very**  
**Mad World, Mad World**

**Children waiting for the day they feel good**  
**Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday**  
**Want to feel the way that every child should**  
**Sit and listen, Sit and listen**

**I went to school and I was very nervous**  
**No one knew me, no one knew me**  
**Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson**  
**Looked right through me, she looked right through me**

**And I find it kind of funny**  
**I find it kind of sad**  
**The dreams in which I'm dying**  
**Are the best I've ever had**  
**I find it hard to tell you**  
**I find it hard to take**  
**When people run in Circles**  
**It's a very, very**  
**Mad World, Sad World**  
**Mad Girl, Mad World**

She was shaken from the end of her song by Hawke's rough hands and she stared at him without comprehension. Magic swirled around her as she found comfort in its familiar embrace. It was intoxicating, allowing her aura to flow unchecked. Judging by Hawke's tense attitude she'd done something wrong … again. He shook his head grimly and nodded in the direction of their resident Healer.

“Luna ...” Hawke said with a frown.

“I take it you disapprove,” she asked in exasperation, but Anders wasn't looking at her. He was watching across the bay and then she heard it. The screaming. The terrible screaming was carried on the wind and growing in volume. She immediately clamped down on her aura and pulled her power back into herself. The tortured sounds faded away as quickly as her magic withdrew and she stared towards the Gallows feeling sick to her stomach. “The Tranquil ...” she whispered in horror.

Anders whipped his head around to look at her questioningly, the now obvious correlation dawning in his eyes. “Luna … the music ...” Anders looked at her like she was a prized piece of jewelry or possibly the answer to his prayers. She absolutely had not missed that particular look on his face. Luna knew he had to have made some kind of connection. Justice had a similar effect on the Tranquil after all.

The song had been powerful enough to reach the imprisoned minds of the Mages and their madness had sought an inevitable release. Looking around she noted that all activity had ceased on the docks, the eyes of everyone present locked firmly on her as though she were some dangerous creature. Perhaps she was. She belatedly realized that the dock was covered in a new multi-layered growth of seaweed. The Templars would come searching for her the moment they had the Tranquil back under control.

Luna started to laugh, a choked, hopeless sound she could no longer hold back. “What have I done?” Reluctantly donning her necklace she activated the rune of concealment and dropped her Lute with an uncaring thud. She would never be able to play it without thinking of Fenris anyway. Then she turned and walked away, Anders following close behind her as they made their way towards the nearest sewer entrance. Laying low seemed like a good idea just now. She didn't notice Hawke gently pick up the discarded instrument, tucking it under his arm with exaggerated care. It was during their hasty retreat that she felt a desperate plan finally coalesce.

She hadn't realized how much losing Fenris' hard won regard would hurt her. There was no chance he would take her back, she knew that, but that didn't mean she couldn't buy back his trust with one last gambit. It would also give her the chance to kill two birds with one stone. Her actions would probably get her killed at this point, or at the very least locked away for what remained of her life, but she had to try. The Tranquil were in danger because of what she'd done. They'd be lucky if all the Templars did was keep them locked away. More than likely Meredith would order their swift executions for their disturbing behavior.

Perhaps inspired by the words in her song Anders pulled Hawke aside once they'd reached his clinic. Luna finally witnessed what she'd been carefully planning for all along. They whispered a conversation that she had already memorized. When Hawke went off to gather the ingredients for the little surprise that would kick off the Mage Rebellion she felt an strange sense of real calm come over her. This was her last opportunity to sway Anders from his chosen path … or rather to redirect it. Looking particularly haggard, she drew him away from his pamphlets. He in turn took the time to point out that she wasn't eating well and served them a small meal.

“I'm fine,” she said with a smile they both knew was disingenuous. “I've just been living rougher than I'm used to ... but it's nothing I can't handle. It's a little like an extended camping trip.”

Handing her a simple bowl of soup he rubbed his brow in aggravation. “You are unwell, even Merrill has come to me asking to check on your health. You could at least stay with her, and we have plenty of room at the estate. Hawke is worried. Varric is worried … I am worried.”

She shrugged and drank the thick broth down in one go without tasting it. “I appreciate the concern but you've already examined me twice in the last month. You said yourself there's nothing wrong.”

“Not physically … no.” He sighed, took a seat near her, then startled her by gently taking her hand. “You are injuring yourself. At this rate you will end up as one of my patients.”

She snatched her hand away, leaving the bowl, as she searched the room. “I can take care of myself Anders.” She scoffed and abruptly changed subjects saying, “There should be enough elfroot here to last you at least a couple weeks. I'll gather more well before you run out.” Retrieving her pack Luna deposited her latest herbal bounty in his lap.

“As much as I appreciate all the work you've been doing …”

_Fuck it. It's now or never._

“I've been using it as an excuse. I needed to get close enough to you to broach an uncomfortable topic which you may, or may not, hate me for when I'm done,” Luna said with sudden, utter seriousness.

“What? I … that was ...”

“Brutally honest of me? Yes well … lying hasn't exactly won me many points lately,” she said, her voice dripping with self deprecation. Anders sighed but nodded in acquiescence. “Hypocrite. You talk about my health all the time, but you seem to be neglecting your own.”

“Yes … look I'm the Healer here.” He stared when she approached and stood facing him directly, heedless of personal space.

“Vengeance … will serve no one Anders. I know what you're planning to do. Don't ...” Luna placed both hands on his shoulders with a look of understanding when he flinched. “Don't get me wrong, I have nothing but contempt for Meredith, and the Kirkwall Chantry has much to atone for. Especially with what they've let her get away with.”

The Healer's expression darkened as he fully comprehended what she was trying to tell him. “Planning … if I were planning anything I supposed you are here to stop me?” Vengeance came to fore, his eyes glowing, blue energy appearing in cracks across the Mage's skin as he rumbled angrily at her. Of course Luna's body only fed on the display, absorbing the magic as she lowered her defenses. “Have you alerted the Champion?”

“No.” The spirit energy dissipated with that single word. Now he looked even more upset and confused and she continued before he could ask. She knelt at his feet, her hands moving to her own lap. He seemed surprised by the act. Kneeling left her at a disadvantage and also demonstrated her lack of fear. “I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to help you. Because you're right.” Anders' eyes widened as she continued. “The Mages of Thedas have been systematically betrayed, abandoned and abused. The Templars were meant to be equal partners, a defense against Abomination. Instead possessions continue to take place because of their misguided, ignorant, and fearful misteachings. They now force children who have been raised to hate and fear themselves into blood rites at the epicenter of the ever thinning Veil around these ... Circles. The once honorable members of that Order have become little more than sadistic jailers.”

Anders gave a sharp intake of breath, his eyes darting back and forth as he further processed her words. “How did you know what I meant to do?”

“Portents.” She chuckled at his disbelieving glance and released her grip on him, getting more comfortable on the ground. Luna sat, not quite Indian style with one leg canted upwards, her elbow resting on that upraised knee. She was more than used to the position due to her Korean upbringing. “No seriously. I've been watching you for specific signs. Namely asking for the ingredients to a certain … project.”

He gaped at her with something short of awe. “You've SEEN it.”

She nodded sadly. “This is it. The catalyst for real change in Thedas. Don't get me wrong, there are a plenitude of reasons for rising up, some that others might consider more impacting. I cannot guarantee the outcome, only the chance. But it is YOUR actions that will be the most visible, and loudest rallying cry. I just don't necessarily agree with your target.”

Glancing around the empty room nervously to be sure they were truly alone he asked, “Then who would you suggest instead,” he asked in growing anger. “The Templars are only able to commit these abuses with the Chantry's approval. They've put my people in a cage that we docilely accepted and now they set their dogs on us at a whim. I will send a message they won't soon forget.”

“Oh, it'll send a message alright. But what exactly is that message going to say Anders? That Mages will stoop low enough to kill the innocent to make their point? You have the right idea, and I agree that our people deserve to be free, but you haven't thought this through clearly.”

“Our … our people,” he asked in a whisper.

“I may not be of this world, but yes, I can no longer ignore the parallels with mine. Our people. MY people. It doesn't matter what title we're given, or where we draw our power. I am a Mage, and it's time I faced that truth. Fenris was right. The Templars will not care where my magic comes from. If anything they already see me as a terrible danger because I cannot be contained by them.” Luna paused for emphasis making sure that Anders was paying close attention to her next words. “Whatever action we take, I must warn you. There is a war coming, and the loss of life will be terrible. There is no stopping it. Know that you don't have to do this. We could walk away, tonight. I can take you to the Avaar, and there we will search for a way to separate you from Justice. It is still an option.”

He shook his head in denial. “I … I can't do that. Especially not now. Even if I were separate from Justice, you say the war is still coming. What would you have me do?”

“The Chantry explosion must happen, you're right about that, it is a symbolic victory … but I want all the civilians evacuated first.”

He raised a brow at that, swallowing nervously, asking, “Only the civilians?”

“If they're wearing a uniform they've already chosen a side Anders.” Excitement and worry filled her in equal measure as Luna put forth the second part of her plan. “But I must ask. Why only the Chantry ... when you can hit the Templars directly?” Luna raised an eyebrow and folded her arms as she waited for him to process her suggestion.

“I … I have no reliable way to enter the Templar stronghold. It would be suicide for any Mage that tried.”

Luna nodded knowingly as a sinister grin spread across her face. “I have business with Orsino, and haven't you heard? I'm a dangerous Apostate wanted for crimes against the Templar Order.” Anders looked at her as if she had lost her mind and she laughed. “I'll find a way in no problem, it's leaving that will be the issue. So … Have you heard of Ser Alrik?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mad World - Original by Tears for Fears  
> Cover by Susan Boyle (I also recommend the versions by Gary Jules and Jasmine Thompson but I needed a female singing with guitar accompaniment)
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/track/4sJcVmy0uaFsLupAWgGzqe?si=3ZqXWr3xTci_uVR4J4AwIQ


	49. CONTINGENCY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna makes plans, contingency plans, and keeps more secrets. Because that always works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright boys and girls. We're in a for a ride so hold on tight. 
> 
> What I thought would be 2 chapters became MORE ... but I won't keep you waiting for the shoe to drop over the course of a month. So I will be dumping the ENTIRE climax for Part 1 of this series in ONE DAY.
> 
> Yes, part one. I've decided this is just way longer than I thought it'd be, and we're not even to Inquisition! So I will be changing the tags and format to match. Also I am taking a mandatory break from this fic. I will be gone for at least a month, possibly two, depending on my will power.
> 
> I'm skipping the notes for now to speed things along. I look forward to your reactions, so don't be shy!!! ;) *hugs for you all*

She glanced at Anders curiously when he suddenly sat down with a thump as though having come to a profound realization.  “This … This is why you came to Kirkwall.”  Anders stared at her as though seeing her for the first time.  “You've known all along that I would ...”  He looked at her with more of that strange hero worship and she smacked him.  Hard.

“I'm not all-seeing Anders, wipe that  **goofy** look from your face.”  Anders was rubbing his cheek and glaring at her now.  She found it far more palatable.  She sighed looking around his clinic and remembering their first encounter.  “I knew possibilities ... There were other less dangerous options.  I didn't choose Kirkwall … I was aware of who and what awaited me here.  I knew that if things continued down the same path … well.”  She shrugged and gave him a half smile.  “I'm glad I came here, despite everything.  Though, I was really was hoping at the time you'd be able to help me find a way home.”

He looked at her questioningly.  “Something you no longer seek it appears.  With everything that's happened I never had a chance to ask.   What changed?  I assumed you were avoiding me after … Hadriana, and then finding Alon but ...”

“There's nothing left for me on that world,” she breathed sadly.  “I was … shown, that truth.”  She leaned back in her chair, balancing it on its back legs while rocking it back and forth.  “All that matters anymore is here.  My son.  He is somewhere in Thedas … I don't know where, or even when really.  I'll probably never see him again.  I only know I will NEVER stop searching for him.  And if he arrives after I am gone … don't I owe it to him to make the world a better place?”

Anders quickly changed the subject after that.  They went over their plan all night.  There were several stages that needed to be executed in tandem and nothing could be overlooked.  Anders had seemed less unhinged than she remembered from the games.  There was still a hint of it … a quiet kind of desperation in the way he took direction from her.  As if having someone to tell him what to do eased the turmoil and frustration of fighting a war no one else seemed to even notice.  She only hoped it was enough to stave off rash action on his part.

In the end it was the rising sun that stilled their fevered strategizing.  As tired as she was, there was no time for sleep, the coming day wouldn't wait for her to take a nap.  Besides, she had been running on less for weeks now.  Anders began to lay herbs out to dry while they spoke.  There was never an end to the chores needed for simple survival in Thedas.  Running an actual charity service to the poor only entailed more work.  Luna counted her blessings that they weren't making potions today.  She had a love/hate relationship with Anders' mortar and pestle.

Luna began to shake off the meloncholy that seemed to have become a part of her.  She smiled when she saw Anders disinfecting various surfaces with alchohol, boiling water for bandages, and washing his hands regularly.  She still fondly remembered the night she'd spent explaining germ theory … without going into too much detail.  He didn't need to know about microbial life to prevent infection.  He only needed to know it worked.

_Gods that must have been.  What … about two years ago?  Have I been here that long already?  How many more people are walking around thanks to that little lesson?_

_Will it be enough to offset the damage you're about to deliberately instigate?_

_Lives aren't numbers.  There IS no balancing the scales._

_Yet you keep trying._

_I do my best, it's all anyone can do._

_Let me know when you believe that._

Luna took some solace in the rhythm of completing simple tasks.  This was probably the last time she would do this.  She was in the process of sweeping the floor clear of detrius when something stuck to the broom.  “Oh, Gross.  Please tell me that's not a body part … nevermind I don't want to know.”  She continued to hurriedly sweep though she deliberately kept from looking toward it.

She must have been a sight because Anders was laughing at her.  “It's just stray bandaging.  Do you have anything I can tie these up with?”  

Grunting in acknowledgement she set the broom aside and dug through her pack to pull out a ball of twine with a triumphant, “Hah!”  Handing the ball to the Healer she bit her lip nervously.   She paused for a moment, giving Anders a determined glare.  “Promise me something ...”

Startled by her sudden mood shift he replied, “Anything … I mean …”

“If this plan goes to shit.  If I die … promise me you won't give up.  Promise me you and Hawke will make your way to the Avvar.  Here I'll mark it for you.”  She began looking for her map only to realize with a pang of regret that Alon had taken that as well.  Throwing her hands up in defeat she exclaimed, “I'll find another map.  Just … please.”

Anders watched her with growing trepidation.  “You're so sure they can help.  What if they can't.  What if I'm ...”

Luna cut him off sternly, her voice full of conviction.  “The Avvar stay bonded to their Spirit teachers for YEARS.  They deliberately let themselves be possessed.  It's how their Mages are TAUGHT.  Trust me.  Even they lose themselves sometimes, but there is a ritual that will release the Spirit back into the Fade.  They do it to complete their training.  You need only convince them to show you HOW.”

He laughed in disbelief.  “Only.”  Anders gave her a nod.  “Very well.  I promise.  No matter what happens.  Even if I must go alone, I will journey to the Avvar.  For you.”  She smiled at that and thanked him, but he still looked disturbed.

Suddenly she cleared her throat, interupting his train of thought.  “So … you're taking the, I saw all this death and destruction in a vision and I want your help to make sure it happens … a little too … eagerly?”  She raised an eyebrow at him as he rolled his eyes.

“Well when you put it that way you make me sound callous.  Although the idea that Varric will assist us is still … hard to imagine.”  Anders used his magic to destroy her forgotten sweep pile and she smiled.

_I will never get tired of magic.  What were we talking about? Oh, right._

“Varric isn't happy about it, but he's on board with saving lives.  I'm asking so much of you all ... with nothing but my word.”  She shrugged self conciously.  “I guess … with everything that's happened I thought it would be harder to convince you.”

Anders sighed and gently took both of her hands in his saying, “Lady Luna  Söng .  I have seen you miraculously heal from mortal wounds with nothing but a melody.  You've recovered from a fatal poisoning you incurred while protecting elven children.  You've slain a darkspawn Ogre with your bare hands.  I mourned your DEATH when a mountain buried you.”  Luna eyes widened as he continued to list what he considered her accomplishments.  His grip on her hands tightened reassuringly.  “You have surivived torture and blood rituals, only to rise the stronger for it.  You overcame your fear of magic itself, and helped a broken man recover not only his Kingdom but his self worth.  You are the bravest woman I've ever known and I would be a fool to disregard any advice you'd freely give me.”

Luna stared at him speechless before sputtering, “Well … when you put it that way.”  Blushing hotly she moved to the ragbin and began heedlessly shredding the cloth into bandaging.  Anders chuckled at her discomfort as he continued preparing the Clinic for patients.  

He shook his head in confusion when Hawke suddenly barged into the room with no announcement.  The glare he reserved for her made Luna certain he had been eavesdropping on at least some of their conversation and his next statement confirmed it.   “That description does paint you as rather inspiring,” he grunted.

“Hawke,” Anders sputtered as he rose to his feet.  The look his lover was throwing at him made her feel a little guilty.  She wasn't sure how much the Champion had heard, but the way he was tightly gripping the bundle he'd obviously intended for Anders didn't point to anything good.  

“Um …” she began.

His suspicious glare swung to include her.  “LADY  Söng ,” he snapped.  “I trust you find Anders' company to be … stimulating.  You are here quite often of late.”  She felt herself internally relax as she read his posture and body language.  Hawke was definitely not confronting them about their plans.  She did want him to know, just not like this.  She left that timing up to Anders.  No, Hawke was jealous of the extra time she was spending with the ex-Warden.  Had they said anything that could be misinterpreted?

_Oh no.  No.  I ship this.  No way am I letting them split up over something stupid._

Instead of backing down she rose with a grace they had rarely seen her exude before.  Strangely enough the sudden shift in body language was cultural.  If Luna's childhood were to be defined by a single word that word would be … perfection, though not in a positive context. The perfect child, the perfect student, the perfect imigrant, and preferably the perfect obedient spouse … the perfect reflection of her parent's aspirations. 

Despite her rebellious and often deliberately crass nature, that experience still lurked beneath the surface, and she wrapped it around herself like social armor when it suited her.  She looked Hawke directly in the eyes ignoring the accompanying cultural urge to lower her gaze as a sign of respect.  Hawke balked and was the first to look away even as he continued fuming.

“Oh, stop posturing.  I have no interest in bedding Anders without your consent,” she said bluntly and ignored the choking sound the Healer emitted.   Hawke stared at her, apparently  stunned that she would be so direct. 

“My, Con … consent,” he stuttered as his jealousy melted away to be replaced by astonishment.  He glanced between them nervously.

“Really you should know better.  I more than approve of you and Anders.  Don't mistake me, you're both ridiculously beautiful men … and if you were willing, I might be persuaded to … sample you both?”  Hawke was quickly turning crimson and Anders was looking at her with a strange mixture of surprise and exasperation.   She let the compliment and the invitation hang in the air between them a moment before continuing with a smirk.  “However, I have far more urgent matters to attend to.  Alas, my delicious would be lovers, it was never to be.”  She mimed an exagerated swoon before she winked at the flustered pair with a chuckle.  

“Oh, do shut UP Luna, we both know you're still pining for your elf.” Anders groaned while massaging his temples.  “I'm never going to get that image out of my mind now.”  Hawke looked at him with a curious expression on his face that she didn't bother to interpret.

She raised an eyebrow, laughing, and continued despite their discomfort.  “Anders has simply been helping me to get my affairs in order Hawke.  There is no need to defend your … territory.  You're both so easy to tease.”

Hawke was still blushing but seemed to be recovering quickly; his own cultured upbringing making a rare appearance.  He seemed suspicious of her, but there was also concern warring on his features, which he quickly schooled.  “I hadn't realized I was being so transparent.  That was ... quite expressive of you Luna.  Though I appreciate the candor.  I apologize for my petty behavior.”  He furrowed his brow as he continued, “Your affairs … Are you leaving?”

“In a manner of speaking.  *I'm going to pick a fight.”

* * * * * *

Word reached them that the Tranquil had all been sequestered in a seperate part of the Circle for … close observation.  Rumor had it they would begin sentencing by the end of the week.  At least they hadn't been outright murdered yet.  This gave her a little more time before she implemented anything, but a warrant for her arrest was already circulating amongst the Nobility.  Cullen had apparently given Aveline a very wordy speech about the greater good and serving justice.  She'd promptly told him to shove Meredith's commands up his ass and to take it up with the new Viscount.  

Hawke had, even less diplomatically, told the Captain in no uncertain terms that he would NOT be helping them to forceably drag Luna into their custody.  He didn't care what the rumors said.  As Viscount he would not condone an action that could endanger their new treaties with Fereldan and declared it loudly enough for his voice to carry.  He also denied any knowledge of her whereabouts.  Everyone knew better.   The power struggle between the Templars, Chantry, and Kirkwall's Nobility was quickly coming to a head.  

Cullen claimed that Luna was only wanted for questioning in connection to some internal Templar matter.  There was no mention of the Tranquil.  Hawke claimed he'd never seen a more terrible liar.  The Knight-Captain had looked … resigned and tormented.  The Tranquil's reaction to being free, if only for a few moments, had rattled everyone within the Gallows.  Luna knew he was harboring doubts about his leader's behavior … good.  That was as it should be, despite her bumbling, Cullen Rutherford would be fine.

Half of Kirkwall's mercenaries seemed to think there was a bounty on her head and that it was too good to pass up.  Strange considering the Templars denied any such bounty existed.  It had been a simple matter to dispatch the first several groups of them stupid enough to attack her head on.  Well … simple was relative.  She had taken an injury or two but they were minor despite how Anders fussed over her.  What did she care about having a few more scars?  She carried so many now, including the Tevinter slave brand.  Luna had tried everything she could think of to diminish it, but it had been created using bloodmagic, and she could not heal it.

_You know you're doing something crazy when HAWKE tells you it's a bad idea._

Luna spent the better part of the day signing paperwork with Varric as Hawke badgered her to reconsider her audacious plan to subdue Ser Alrik.  The elf was convinced Luna was up to something beyond what she'd told them.  Which, in all fairness was compeltely true.  Hawke had his suspicions, but Luna urged ANDERS to enlighten him.  She had no doubt the Champion would turn to more aggressive tactics to persuade her if he knew she fully expected to leave Kirkwall for good even if she survived the coming days.

As  **_Hahren_ ** of the Alienage; Merrill was the perfect choice to lead the elves when she had gone.  She had already deeded her businessess to Merrill and secondarily to Varric.   The elven woman was sweet, and often naive, though less so these days.  Still it was something a business couldn't afford.  The dwarven Merchant's Guild had kindly 'backdated' the forms.  No one profited if the Templars confiscated all that wealth.  Varric would keep Merrill from tanking the ventures within the first week … she hoped.  

She also arranged for the Alienage Vaults to be emptied, and the bulk of the coin moved to the Fereldan Treasury under Alistair's care.  Only Merrill knew what would become of the rest.  Luna could imagine the look on his face when he was informed of its arrival.  Her actions ensured that the elves of Kirkwall would be in charge of their own destinies from here on, and that Fereldan's throne would be more secure.  She didn't want to leave any loose ends.

It had never occurred to her that she had become powerful enough to reach all of the Tranquil in the Gallows at once, but what was done, was done.  She wouldn't … couldn't leave them all to die.  She wasn't even upset by the latest turn of events.  Instead she felt an unfamiliar anticipation, or maybe it was acceptance, settling inside her like a coiled spring.  No, that analogy was inadequate.  It felt more like a stick of dynamite; a flaming match held betwixt two trembling fingers delicately hovering near the waiting fuse.  

Turrik's small band of hirlings had already been briefed on the part they would play in the coming days.  Luring Ser Alrik onto the coast in search of her would be one of the easiest parts.  They would not be leaving her side for most of this madness.  Turrik had insisted on being present for the entire ordeal despite her insuation that it could end badly for them all.  She had refused and they had awkwardly shaken hands before he pulled her into a rough embrace.  

“By the Stone lass, ye've done good.  More than good.  I had to at least make the offer.”  It was only in that moment that she fully realized that he considered her a friend, and not just a convenient payday.  She'd returned the embrace clumsily before they awkwardly parted to ready themselves.

Merrill assured her that she'd passed on Luna's request that the elves stay sequestered in the Alienage unless absolutely nessessary.  Even at risk of losing their paying positions in Hightown.  As the unconsulted, and duly elected, Keeper of the newly established Clan  **_Sulahn'Nan_ ** , the elves would hopefully abide.  Luna detested the title but wasn't opposed to using this one to her advantage.   She WAS a little disturbed that they'd decided on calling themselves 'Vengeful Song.'  There was no proof, but she just KNEW Flemeth had something to do with it.  The coincidence in naming was too unlikely. 

Scrubbing her face to keep exhaustion at bay Luna stepped in front of Merrill's fully repaired  **_Eluvian_ ** as she donned her armor.   Merrill had not been able to discern the its true function yet, but it worked as a proper mirror now, reflecting the refurbished home, as well as Luna quite clearly.   She took a moment to gawk at herself.  

The white streak in her hair had continued to grow, leaving much less of the midnight tresses she'd known her whole life to cover the sides.  She was thinner than she remembered, her cheeks more hollow, with dark circles under her inhuman looking eyes.  Her features were sharper, almost alien, though that could have been an illusion created by the way she'd chosen to wear her hair; showcasing rather than hiding her painstakingly shaved ears for the first time.

Still staring at herself she responded to Merrill's latest babbling, saying,   “It's not the end of the world you two.  I'll be fine.  I'm immune to Templars if you recall?”

“Or so you would have us believe,” Merrill muttered.  “Don't think I haven't noticed the way you get that little crinkle on your forehead when you lie. Or that you pout your lips when you think no one is watching.  Or the strained look in your eyes when you're about to do something incredibly STUPID because you've decided it's for the best!”

“I hadn't realized I was so easily read.”  Luna huffed a little laugh.  “Thank you for that.  I'll be sure to work on hiding those from now on,” she said with a smirk that earned her a glare from the Bloodmage.

“Honestly am I the only one that thinks this is a terrible idea?”  Merrill was still frantically wringing her hands and Luna vaguely wondered how she had any unblistered skin left on them.  “You could at least let Hawke and I accompany you.”

“I will not have two of the LEADERS of Kirkwall running around attacking rogue Templars and throwing the city into further turmoil.”

“Yes, by all means, it makes much more sense for you to walk headlong into a Templar trap with only a small, disreputable, gang of SMUGGLERS to assist you.”  Hawke shrugged, somehow making it appear like an angry gesture.  “Is there anything we could say that would change your mind?”

Luna gave them both a hard, unrepentant stare.  “I doubt it, but you and Merrill refuse to mend your naughty, blood letting ways, so why should I change any of my decisions?”  Merrill and Hawke pointedly ignored her jab about their magic.

Merrill waved her arm at Hawke saying, “What about Anders?  Surely he's tried to disuade her from whatever she isn't telling us.”  Turning back to Luna with a grimace she continued, “It must be bad for you to manage keeping it to yourself for this long.  After all that's what you do isn't it.  The bigger the secret the longer you keep silent on it.”  Luna ground her teeth at that but didn't respond.

“Actually Anders appears to be helping her,” Hawke grumbled.  “You, Aveline, Fenris and I appear to be the only ones deliberately being kept in the dark.  She's also roped Varric into her little scheme.  He's acting twitchy.  Varric is never twitchy.”  Hawke folded his arms peevishly and she avoided his gaze, feeling a tad cornered.

Merrill squeaked in surprise at that.  “Fenris is going to be even grumpier than usual when he hears about this.  I know it.  He's already storming around Kirkwall looking for excuses to rip out people's hearts.  Why is it always hearts anyway.  Wouldn't it work just as well with a liver or maybe a spleen?  Do you think he could pull out a person's stomach?  The intestine wouldn't work it would just spool out like a length rope and by the time you finished ...”  She shook herself from her own tangent and finished by saying, “I just know he'll be threatening bodily harm on SOMEONE for not protecting you from yourself.”  

“You make me sound like a helpless babe in the woods,” Luna said gritting her teeth.  “I have no intention of telling Fenris … IF I were up to anything.  What I do is not any of his concern.”  She was tired of this, they were mostly repeating themselves and she didn't want Fenris involved.  “Besides which he probably doesn't give a shit,” she bit out angrily and continued adjusting her outfit. “He already regrets allowing a … a THING like me to touch him.”

Hawke placed a hand at her elbow saying, “Have you spoken to him yet?  Because I have.  He was shocked, hurt, and angry but you MUST know he ...”

“Yes, yes, I'm a dirty, dirty liar,”  Luna interupted in a huff waving him off.  “I know.  I messed up.  Let it be.  This is my risk to take.  It's my life, to do with as I please.  Besides … if everything goes well then I'll at least be able to look him in the eyes ... knowing I did all I could.”

Hawke cleared his throat.  “You know that Alon is still out there.  If what you've told us … AGAIN apparently, is true.  You need allies.  Leaving yourself so open, I can't help but think you are being reckless.”

“Says the man that singlehandedly took on the ARISHOK.”

He rolled his eyes.  “As I recall, I had backup.  Which I KNOW you remember.  You almost bled to death in my arms after all.”

She swallowed hard; refusing to look him in the eyes.  “I've tried to account for Alon.  But I HAVE to do this.  Ser Alrik would make every Mage in the world Tranquil from the moment they are discovered.  I've already lived through one extinction of a people, I won't stand by and do nothing while Meredith drives more Templars under his insane banner.”

Nodding, Hawke looked at her with something that looked uncannily like real empathy.  “You'll be needing these.”  He held out her weapons belt to her and she lifted her hand to receive them.  She stilled herself when the Templar Insignia caught the candlelight.   

She removed the familiar blade from its worn sheath with a hum.  “Merrill … would you have this sent to the Broker for me,” she breathed thoughtfully.

Her companions looked at each other in concern.  It didn't occur to her how it must have looked.  She was giving away everything she owned.  Luna never went anywhere without that blade.  Merrill gently received the weapon with a furrowed brow.  “Of course, but why ...”

“Just in case ...”  Hawke frowned as she hasitly scribbled something to the effect of appreciating having it returned to her at a later date, and barring that to Alistair.  She passed the note to Merrill as well.  “... and I will need to borrow this.”  

Merrill nodded in surprise as Luna took one of her more plain looking staves and strapped it to her back.  “Will I be getting that back?  It's one of my favorites.”

Luna only chuckled in response.  Finally she donned her wolf ring and necklace.  She still wasn't sure what the ring was capable of.  It had slipped her mind, but she'd grown used to the weight of it on her finger.  Finishing with the last of the buckles on her belt she turned towards the **_Eluvian_** and ran a hand along its ancient frame fondly.  “Merrill … before I go, there is one more thing I would ask you.”  Merrill looked at her expectantly as Luna smiled wickedly.  “Would you like to know what an **_Eluvian_** is REALLY for?”

 

 


	50. CHAINS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It' a TRAP!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT!!

Luna didn't bother with a pack.  Her stay on the coast would be a short one, followed by an even, hopefully, shorter stay in the Gallows.  She strode out of Merrill's door and was startled to see a veritable throng of elves gathered in the courtyard.  There wasn't room to walk between them.  The nearest had linked their arms together and were glaring at her in a way that made her a little nervous.  “Umm, Merrill?” 

“Keeper … you cannot do this,” the Dalish spokeswoman, Renan if she remembered correctly, said loudly.  The crowd was eerily silent for such a large gathering.  “ ** _Hahren_ ** , speak to her, please.  She cannot possibly think to abandon us.”

Merrill frowned and addressed the woman.  “I cannot control what the Keeper chooses to do.  She doesn't answer to me, and neither will my Clan apparently.  I thought I told you this would be a bad idea?”  Her **_Vallaslin_** warped rather prettily as Merrill's expression grew dark and serious.

“Well, well,” Luna said, giving Merrill an accusatory glance.  Someone must have spilled the beans for them to be so up in arms.  “I was pretty sure this worked … the exact opposite of what you are implying Renan.  I am Keeper, therefore the Clan listens to me.  Not the other way around … Or did I misunderstand that?” The next thing Luna knew there were hundreds of elves kneeling around her as she groaned in resignation.

The same Dalish woman spoke up again, this time appearing to be unsure of herself.  She had noticed Luna's ears were free and kept staring at them. "Keeper.  The **_Shemlen_ ** will not hesitate to kill you.  You must know this.  Your wisdom and light have brought hope where there was none.  You have guided us through civil war and freed many of us from slavery.”

Luna shook her head as she thought over the numerous mistakes she'd made in her short stay.  “Enough,” Luna growled already having had her fill of whatever praise was about to pass the woman's lips.  “Stand up.  All of you.”  Luna stalked over to some of the nearest elves and forced them to their feet.  A few of them rose slowly, confused by her actions.  “You have bent the knee for TOO long.”  It scared her how quickly they all stood after that declaration.  This kind of devotion was dangerous … she didn't want it.  Maybe if she … nudged them a little.

“We don't understand,” one of the males said nervously.

_For fucks sake I don't have time for this. If I can help them to be more open minded … more willing to listen when Solas awakes … maybe it will change things.  Perhaps it will at least get him thinking along a different path._

“No grand gesture or destiny will lift the **_Elvhen_** up to what they once were.  Hard work, curiosity and above all a willingness to change is what will save you.  But caution.  Curiosity untempered by doubt, leads to gullibility.  Question EVERYTHING, but be prepared to test the answers you receive.  Only then will you know the truth of a thing.”  She cautiously inched her way towards one of the Alienage borders as the crowd slowly parted for her with each step.

“Are you truly leaving us then?”

“If I stay I endanger you ALL.  I have become a target.  And ...”  Luna sighed, facing the speaker.  “... you don't need me anymore.”  In the face of the rising protests she held up a hand for silence, waiting until they had calmed themselves before continuing.  “I CAN'T SAVE YOU!  I am only ONE person.  The elves must learn to THINK for THEMSELVES or they are doomed to repeat history forever.”  A child raised their hand sheepishly as the adults continued to argue and she smiled at him encouragingly.  “Yes **_da'len_**?”  Everyone strained to listen suddenly to their quiet conversation.

“Do you mean when **_Arlathan_** fell?  When the **_shems_** stole our home from us?”

Looking over the crowd she weighed her response carefully.  It was likely they wouldn't understand, devotees of any new movement rarely listened to reason, but she would try.  “Almost … not quite.  I speak of behavior **_da'len_** … patterns.  One side conquers the other, back and forth, and back and forth.  Hatred fueling hatred, and for what?  Nothing changes if we remain enslaved to this idea.”  She knelt at the little boy's feet and ruffled his hair.  It was THIS generation she had the greatest chance of reaching.  “The loss of that ancient empire was their own doing.  Tevinter just picked up the pieces.”

“But that's not what I was taught,” the child said in confusion.

Luna smiled at him encouragingly.  Though she was speaking to the child, she was directing her words to the crowd.  “Exactly.  There is a difference between seeking truth, and being TAUGHT.  When you are taught, you are simply given someone else's truth, and told to accept it. I'm telling you to seek your own truth in the world.  No matter where that truth may lead. Even the smallest person can effect the course of history.”

Renan clenched her hands at her sides saying, “There is so much we don't know.  If that part of our histories is wrong, how do we know the rest aren't?  You could tell us.  You could stay and teach us.”

“You have already missed the POINT,” Luna said derisively.  She sighed, softening her tone.  “It matters that you asked, but you aren't ready to hear what I would say.” 

“You are right.  Teach us,” came another cry, then another. 

“The fact that you seek a teacher, and not a lesson, shows you weren't listening,” she said saddened. 

“Then … what would you have us do?  Hide in the Alienages for the rest of our days,” someone asked angrily.

Luna tried one more time. “Knowledge, Wisdom, Compassion, Hope, Inspiration, Laughter and Determination.  Remember THESE things and the rest should easily follow.  Your strength comes from each other.  Not I, not the Creators, not the Chantry, not the Circle or the Templars, not the Wardens or the Guard. It comes from the brothers and sisters, husbands and wives that stand by your side … elven or not.” Taking one last sorrowful look at the hushed crowd Luna **Accelerated** herself up and over the nearest building.  Vaulting to the next roof she activated her necklace, and took off at a run.  She didn't wait for Hawke or Merrill to follow.

******

Renan watched for Luna long after the others had emptied the courtyard.  Luna's words tumbled through her mind again and again.  She was puzzled, but enraptured, by what she had witnessed here today. It had taken Renan months to get to Kirkwall after she had been ejected by her Clan.  Rumors of a new leader, one who wasn't afraid of the **_shems_** , was spreading like wildfire amongst the Dalish.

She had known her Clan would not keep her for much longer.  As a third Mage they had viewed her only as a liability for possession.  “An Ancient helping to end a burgeoning slave trade, allying herself with Kings, and Viscounts … surely it is a sign from the Creators that our suffering as a people is near an end,” she had insisted.  Her insistence that they meet this woman had fallen on deaf ears and only hastened her abandonment. 

Traditional Dalish legend claimed the Creators had been locked away by a cruel and  laughing Fen'Harel.  It was widely accepted that he was the only God left to them and how had her people chosen to honor him?  Renan ran her fingers over the secret mark she had given herself when she was only thirteen.  It was only the size of a pea; easily dismissed if noticed at all, and it marked her as a follower of the God of Rebellion.  There were few of them but some of the old teachings had survived.  Those that did insisted the Dalish were wrong. 

Now came someone that practically proclaimed it.  How easily the others missed the signs that seemed to glare in her own sight.  The woman proudly wore one of his symbols on her hand and today had chosen to stand up and shout a rallying cry for them to stand together.  No fear of reprisal.  No cowering in the dark.

She smiled remembering the short glimpse she had gotten once of Luna as she bathed.  It had been well into the night, when the rest of the world fitfully slumbered, and she had thought herself alone.  Renan hadn't meant to linger, and would have begged apology for intruding, but had been transfixed by what she saw.  She had been afraid to move let alone draw attention to the fact she watched from a shadowed corner. 

Luna was riddled with scars.  Her back, arms, legs, chest, and even face were not spared.  When she freed a long silvery tail, brushing it smooth in the warm water, Renan had been forced to put the pieces together.  The woman had shaved her ears, dulled her canines, and filed down her wickedly sharp claws.  The implications had sent her mind whirling.  Luna Söng was not what she pretended to be.  Trickster indeed.

Yet at every turn this strange woman had surprised her.  She would not turn away anyone in need.  She tolerated no injustice no matter how small.  That she would swear off power, even when having it deliberately thrust at her, and insist the elven people stand on their own. Well … It was about time.  Renan returned to her small but clean abode.  A nap was in order.  She needed to make a report. 

******

Cullen stared at the vial of Lyrium with what could only be described as disgusted longing.  He had needed to take more than usual to quell the headache this morning. An occurrence that happened far more often than he cared to admit.  It had not been enough, and the pain behind his eyes was already returning. He could requisition more, but what kind of example would that set for the men?

He was pulled from his thoughts as the jeers of his subordinates drifted in through the window.  Setting himself to rights he left his offices and was startled to see the Ambassador of Fereldan being led his way. He awaited their approach not with a sense of satisfaction at her capture, but also a growing weariness. This would only lead to trouble.

Ser Alrik had reportedly met an inglorious death.  Lady Söng not even being the one to deliver the killing blow. The Templars that dragged her in claimed that she had not even fought against capture. Now she stood before him, shackled, and still somehow everything in her posture screamed defiance.  He approached her cautiously, looking her over with a frown, and appraised her condition.  Several ugly, purpling bruises showed prominently across her face.

“I thought you said she didn't struggle,” he threw at the nearest man.

“She … she didn't.”

Cullen reached a guantleted finger under her chin, turning her face to better see the injuries. He found it curious that she looked him directly in the eyes as though challenging him. It was not unheard of for a captured Apostate to show so much fire but it was rare. “Then where did she receive these,” he hissed. “Your instructions were for her to be brought in for questioning unharmed.” This was only technically true, but he stated it for the benefit of the spies that would relay what happened here today.

The other Templar answered with a smart salute. “Sustained during the tussle with Ser Alrik's men Knight-Captain."

He was lying.  Cullen could tell they were keeping something from him.  They had no doubt decided to show the Mage a little 'hospitality' during her capture.  He would ensure they were disciplined for this breach in protocol.  “Report to the barracks.  I will deal with you LATER.”  Cullen made sure there was no question they would answer for their treatment of the prisoner.  He received the keys to her shackles, continuing to stare down his latest charge. 

“Will you cooperate?  Or must I have you forced to follow?” 

The woman smirked at him.  Smirked.  “I'll cooperate.  I assume you'll be taking me to receive my phylactery?”  He narrowed his gaze at her suspiciously.  She was far too glib for his liking. 

“Do you not wish some time to prepare,” he asked lightly. 

“Oh, no Comma … err, Knight-Captain.  By all means.  Let us get this farce under way.”  Again she smiled, this time seemingly at some internal joke. 

_Is she mad?_

He assigned a triple guard to escort them. Her behavior made no sense.  She was up to something. Cullen didn't miss the significant glance she gave the Herbalist as they marched her toward the Circle proper.  He still remembered the day he had intervened on her behalf.  How things had changed since then. 

Cullen was surprised when the Grand Enchanter arrived to personally over see the process of making her phylactery.  Any junior Mage would have been sufficient to assist in its creation.  Still he was sure the political implications of the Lady's capture could not be ignored. Was that not why he was personally escorting her? 

“Orsino.  A pleasure to meet you,” she purred. 

Cullen snapped his head around to glare at her.  He had never heard speak thusly and he looked to see if it was in jest. 

“The pleasure is all mine Ambassador.”  Orsino bowed his head respectfully, and Luna responded with a charming smile. 

She turned her honey sweet words towards him next.  “Cullen.  I wonder if it would be improper for me to have a conversation with Grand Enchanter Orsino alone for a moment?” 

Orsino tilted his head to side obviously intrigued by this request. 

Cullen folded his arms, widening his stance while looking down at her.  “He will not be able to delay the ritual.  You had best accept that you are here to stay." 

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it delectable thing,” she said with a wink.  “Although I guess that answers my question.”  He couldn't help blush that slowly rose over his features.  Curse this woman and her forward behavior.  “I am merely hoping to smooth over any … unwanted retaliation on the part of my GOOD FRIEND the KING OF FERELDAN.  A message telling him I came willingly might … alleviate any concern over my well being.”  She looked at him innocently enough, but it only seemed to irritate him more.  He didn't trust her. 

“I can see the letter written myself,” he offered. 

“NO.  You see.  You're a Templar.  Alistair won't trust it from you and I, sure as rain on the Storm Coast, don't trust you to deliver it.  It needs to be from me, and it MUST be delivered tonight.”  She turned to Orsino with a flourish and a bow.  “I assume the Circles have a faster means of communication than a few diseased birds?" 

The Grand Enchanter chuckled, obviously entertained by the entire exchange.  “It would be a simple matter to relay a message to Denerim. I am familiar with the Mage who has taken the new position of Fereldan's Court Enchanter.” 

The prisoner was looking at him expectantly and he relented.  “Very well.  Send your missive.” 

“You won't regret this Cullen.  It'll only be a few  ...” 

“I will be present throughout,” he said curtly. 

She raised an eyebrow and he felt uncannily like an errant child as she spoke.  “No need to get your smalls in a twist.” 

“You're manner of speech is … odd.” 

She stretched and he couldn't help but notice just how tight her clothing clung to her.  Was this what she normally wore?  “I come from a far away place.  Which is why all this Circle business is absolutely ridiculous.  I'm already trained, and there's no need to leave me to rot in a prison.” 

“The Circles are NOT prisons ...” 

Luna only laughed while gesturing to their surroundings.  “Excluding the fact we're on an island called the GALLOWS and it was specifically used as, and still FUNCTIONS as a prison.” 

Cullen didn't understand why he was letting this woman bait him.  Luckily Orsino whispered something in her ear and led her to his office. Cullen, and six Templars, all followed as she spoke with the King via sending crystal.  It was a remarkable device and Cullen was sure Orsino had not mentioned its existence to Meredith. Luna as per her word let King Alistair know that she had voluntarily entered the Kirkwall Circle.  He proceeded to tell her what an idiot she was and that it wouldn't get her out of being his Ambassador.  She then urged him not to declare war on Kirkwall on her account. 

Alistair acknowledge Cullen's presence in a rather hostile fashion. He knew however that the current King of Fereldan had never completed his vows. What did he know of the hard choices he'd been required to make? It was an all together boring conversation in retrospect.  Still he appreciated Luna's forethought.  If he could use her cooperation as an example, perhaps he could even convince Meredith to lift some of the harsher restrictions she had enacted. 

They approached the ritual circle and he kept his guard up. He still didn't trust this woman and she was being far more pleasant than was natural in his experience. She had strangely insisted that Orsino cleanse the blade in boiling water and flame before making the cut to take her blood. That was when things stopped going smoothly. 

The Grand Enchanter needed eight attempts to make the spell accept her blood.  Each time Luna had lent the Mage her own input, claiming that she was not quite in tune with Thedas and to try again.  Her bright smile as she was cut again and again made Cullen's skin crawl.  What was more remarkable was the way the wound would begin to heal almost immediately.  Orsino had discussed her ability to self heal at length and Cullen grew more impatient by the hour. 

He had not had his second draught of Lyrium this day, it still sat at his desk, and the headache was beginning to become more than he could ignore.  He found himself snapping at not only the Mages but also his subordinates.  It didn't help that Luna had given him a piercing lavendar stare after each incident.  It felt as though he were being reprimanded without a word.

When her phylactery finally took everyone jumped back with a start.  He had NEVER seen a phylactery do THAT.  It was glowing with golden light, bright enough that it hurt to look at directly.  Orsino had covered it with a black cloth, and still it lit the room.  The closer it was brought to Luna, the brighter still it burned.  Cullen felt a wave of nervousness wash over him and grabbed his charge by the arm.

“What is the meaning of this?  What have you done to it!?”

Orsino came to her rescue saying, “If you had paid any attention Knight-Captain you would be aware that we have been discussing this possibility for some time.  Though I must say it is a much stronger reaction than I was prepared for.”

Luna only shrugged.  “Don't ask me.  It's your bloodmagic.”

Cullen stared at her in disgusted horror and sputtered, “We DO NOT use BLOODMAGIC.  It is a slight against the Maker!”

Now the woman was laughing.  “Really?  Strange, I could have sworn I was being cut, specifically for the use of my BLOOD.  My mistake.  Apparently you Freemarchers are just sadistic.”

“Silence MAGE!”

“She could be an Abomination!”  One of the knights sent a wave of  **Silence** to subdue her and she … yawned.  Orsino had seen the danger and had back away quickly and therefore was unscathed.  He was staring intently at the wrapped phylactery with a frown.  Luna however, didn't seem to notice anything was amiss.  Cullen realized it was an act when she saw one of her fists clenched tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

“Cullen.  I'm tired.  I'm sticky.  I would like to sleep.  You DO have beds in this place don't you?”

“Of course we do,” he snapped.

Cullen doubled the guard on her again.  He'd then angrily marched her into the dungeons after seeing her blood safely stored away.  She didn't seem the least bit interested in its fate … so he assigned more guards to the store room.  Normally they would have put her with the apprentices, but everything about this situation had him on edge.  It was better to lock her where it was safe.  He would make a report to Meredith and deal with her later.  After he could think clearly.

She turned to look at him from her sparce cell with her hands behind her back and he made to swing the door shut.  Luna appeared to be taking deep steady breathes since she had been silenced.  He was sure it was somehow linked to her resistance to having her magic stripped.  Orsino obligingly activated the wards against escape and Luna had the gall to thank them both.  He had grunted a reply he could hardly remember.

“Cheer up Cullen.  You have me RIGHT where you want me.”  Her voice, rich with suggestion, sent a shiver of anticipation up the length of his spine.  How did she DO that?

Opening his mouth to speak he found he couldn't utter a word.  Gritting his teeth in frustration, he shook his head, cleared his throat and started again.  He was under the distinct impression that SHE was right where SHE wanted to be.  His only choice was to reassert control over the situation.  With a satisfied smirk he didn't truly feel he decided to take her down a peg.   “You may as well get comfortable.    The forging of a phylactery may seem inconsequential to you, but it is yet one more link in the chain to keep you from hurting others.”

“One more shackle around my neck you mean,” she suddenly growled.  It was uncanny how like a beast she sounded.

“I ...” His hand hovered over his sword as her expression shifted to something dangerous, her tone carrying more weight, and meaning that he had ever thought possible.

“One more lash of the whip.  One more pull of the rack.  One more twist of the thumb screws.  One more stone on my back.”  She was almost chanting now, a rhythm of accusation and judgment that seemed to resonate in his mind.  “One more screaming child.  One more crying mother.  One more defeated husband.  One more tortured brother.”  She was biting out each sentence like a curse and he stood unmoving, pulled in by the intensity of her gaze.  “One more lauded rapist.  One more knot in the noose.  One more log on the pyre.  One more tired excuse.”

“That's not ...”  He tried to interupt the steady flow of her words, willing himself not to listen.

“One more.   Just, one more.   Please … One more drop of Lyrium.”  The words hung in the air between them like a thunder clap.

_She knows.  HOW does she know???_

The look she gave him now was more malicious than any Maleficar he had ever faced down.  Her next sentence seemed to cut him to the core, tearing at what remained of his ragged soul.  “For no other reason, than for being greater … than the sum of our parts.”


	51. RISE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again Again!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is ridiculously long, but I couldn't find a better place to break the flow. Enjoy!!

Luna hadn't had to wait long into the night before the sentries became unbearably bored.  Some of them pulled out cards or dice and started to game in a corner.  Others simply decided to find a quiet space to sleep.  Some remained standing, but they were far from vigilant.  After all she was being a model prisoner, had not complained once, and appeared to be asleep.  The Knight-Captain was obviously over reacting to her presence.

Despite what Cullen had been led to believe she had NOT been searched, or even disarmed when entering the Gallows.  Consequently she was still wearing her Enchanted Necklace, had a dagger hidden in her hair, and had NO intention of staying locked up all night.  Approaching the wards she simply stopped trying NOT to absorb everything and they slowly went out, one by one.  As expected the lock was ridiculously easy for her to pick, though this one did take her longer than usual, as she was trying to remain silent. Timing her exit had been the trickiest bit.

Walking freely into the night she didn't bother to sneak around.  No one would be able to perceive her.  She was pleasantly surprised to see a small group of familiar looking Templars standing guard outside the Circle Tower.  Fighting the urge to chuckle she strode directly up to them.

“Fancy meeting you fine fellows on such an auspicious evening,” she quipped quietly.  One of the men almost fell over as she seemed to suddenly appear before them and the others quickly quieted the racket he was making.

“Woman.  Tha' be a dirty trick fer sure,” he hissed in a gruff voice before clasping her hand in greeting.  “Es 'bout time ye showed up.  We been stuck in these cans fer hours.  Been a right chore just ta take a piss, ain't that right Ghris?”

“Quit yer bitchin' Jeren.  At least the helmets are made fer your stupid **_Shem_** 'ead.  My poor ears have near been rubbed clean off.”  Luna stopped the elf from removing the helmet much to his disappointment.  So far the plan was going off without a hitch.  She wanted to keep it that way.  

Ser Alrik had been slain, by Luna herself despite reports to the contrary, and his men had been similarly dispatched.  The hardest part had been killing them without damaging their armor too much.  Luckily Ghris was a wicked shot with a crossbow.  Then they had taken an extra hour just to clean the armor before outfitting Turrik's men in them.

It had been Luna's job to act as a distraction from that point on. The bruises on her face had been misdirection. People stopped looking if they thought they already had an answer. She had done all she could to poke and prod Cullen into fixing his attention on her.

She had to abandon the notion of speaking with Orsino privately but it had always been a long shot. Cullen hadn't liked the idea one bit.  Even the phylactery taking so long to complete had been her doing, subtly keeping herself out of sync with Orsino's magic on purpose.  All the while Turrik's men had been surveying the easiest way to and from her true goal, the Tranquil mages. 

They would need to move them tonight but in order for the rest of her plan to work they needed one more person.  Sandal was already lurking near a certain wall in Gallows and had mysteriously been ignored by everyone.  Considering he'd made Luna's necklace for her it didn't surprise her in the least.  He strode up to her with a half smile and gave her a rib bruising hug.  Then it was only a matter of relieving or incapacitating the men responsible for guarding the hostages.  She tore the head clean off the man she caught using one as a punching bag while his fellows pretended not to hear.  So much for minimal blood shed.

Her pseudo Templars accompanied her in speaking with the Tranquil.  She would not want them to alert the proper authorities in a misguided attempt at following their previous orders.  To her horror Luna counted at least forty Tranquil mages, packed in together like sardines, in a single storeroom.  They were standing, leaning on one another to sleep.  

That was when she spotted Maddox.  She stopped, caught up by the enormity of what she was about to change, before shoving those thoughts aside.  She didn't care what was SUPPOSED to happen to Maddox.  It was bullshit.  She wouldn't let it happen.  There was a chance he would survive when Meredith was killed, but with all the changes she had made, what if they were all murdered before then?

Luna had thought that she would need to use more aggressive persuasion to convince them to go with her, but it appeared they were completely aware of their impending executions.  She hated to do it, but the docile Tranquil simply willingly followed her out of the building.  They did not question when she brought them to the secret exit.  They didn't even ask why when she instructed them to enter the Eluvian.  It was thus that by groups of two and three, concealing their movements with her enchantments, that she led them to freedom.

It took some convincing, and in one case shoving, but Turrik's men followed them through at the end.  Luna had been gratified to confirm that the Eluvian now led to the Storm Coast and not Mythal's Temple.  Sandal stayed behind to keep the mirror open for her.  Once on the other side, and a short trek through a cave, the men discarded their helms and donned their own smuggled gear with hearty laughter.  It was strange for Luna to watch their exuberance next to the emotionless Mages.  Someone was going to find a large pile of Templar armor on the beach one day.  She couldn't help but wonder what would become of it.

“Ghris.”

“Ya boss?”  The elf's ears did look rather chafed and bloody and she winced in sympathy.  She leaned over and healed him without asking, he was more than used to her magic.  “Oh Maker I could kiss ye.”

Rolling her eyes Luna handed him a rolled up map.  “You still know how to read one of these?”

“Course. I do.  What kind o' sailor would I be if I didn't ken the upside of a map?”

“The uneducated kind?”

'True 'nuff.  What is it ye'll be wantin' me to do then?”

“We're in Fereldan now in case you were wondering.  The Storm Coast … I know the rain makes it obvious, shut it.  You will take them to the King's road as discussed.  A contingent of the Royal Guard will await you at THIS ...,” she pointed to the red inked portion of the road, “... crossroads.  They will be escorted from there to be placed under Fereldan's protection.  Under NO circumstances are you to allow them to be taken to Redcliffe.”  She handed him two missives marked with her seal.  “Give this to the first official that gives you trouble and THIS one you will see personally into the hand of the King.  DO you understand?”

“Not at all, but I can follow instructions.  So yer not comin' with?  I assume ye've worked out extra pay for this shite.  I'm not much fer baby sittin'.”  

“I have unfinished business in Kirkwall.  Turrik will meet you in Denerim and you'll receive triple your normal fee once the Tranquil are safely delivered.”  She stopped and looked the elf in the eyes with deadly seriousness and pitched her voice to include the others. “Mind you, if they DON'T make it; if a single one mysteriously goes missing, or if they abused in any way.  I will be personally visiting the one responsible.”  

Ghris only laughed.  “I'm not suicidal.  They'll get there, no need for threats milady.”  Luna clapped him on the back, quickly said her farewells, and strode back through the  **_Eluvian_ ** .  Sandal was no where to be found when she exited the tunnel.  Luna grew more worried when she saw that the paving stones beyond were splashed red.  She hoped he had returned home without incident.  Sandal had a mind of his own, and who knew what his true agenda was.

Staring into the open courtyard Luna felt the stirring of the familiar urge to cause trouble.  Normally it was something she chose to ignore, it would be prudent to retrieve her phylactery and make her escape.  However tonight she'd already spent a good deal of time breaking rules and her blood sang with mischief.  She knew she might come to regret it, but she just couldn't help herself.  She backtracked to one of the larger storerooms and absconded with a sizable amount of paint and several terrible ideas.

_No one ever looks up._

An hour later she smirked at her handiwork and left the empty paint containers where they lay.  Time to go.  Activating her necklace again she reached out with her Magesight and could sense her phylactery like a beacon.   Honestly, it was as if someone had taken a hundred LED's and strung them together on full power.  

Luna hadn't located the vault yet however her blood appeared to already be on the move.  It could only mean someone had removed it.  Thinking frantically she decided she would need to be securely locked in her room to avoid suspicion.  Enough Mages brought to bear by angry Templars would see right through her concealment spell.

_Shit, shit, SHIT. FUCK!  I NEED that HOMING DEVICE._

She managed to enter her cell without anyone seeing her, most of them were fast asleep.  As she frantically tried to scrub the paint from her fingers, her heart hammered in her ears.  She paced the confines of her room and tried to calm herself.  Whomever was using her phylactery would find her soon enough.  Once she had taken it from them, she would make her escape.  She was unsurprised when the Templars roughly dragged out of her cell.  It wasn't Cullen that began her interrogation but the Templar she'd encountered while selling herbs so long ago.

“WHERE ARE THEY,” Stephen roared.

Luna looked at him as though he'd lost his mind.  “Um.  You'll have to be more specific.  Whom are you referring to?  Because my guards are right there.”  The two Templars that were holding her immobile tightened their grips.

He cuffed her against the head, and her vision darkened with the blow.  “Answer the question bitch,” he growled in her ear.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn't wearing a helmet, and poor Stephen had his nose soundly broken when she slammed her face into his.  He staggered backward, blood pouring from it, and down the front of his armor.  She didn't even struggle against the men that still held her.  “Touch me again,” she hissed at him with a feral grin.  “I DARE you.”

“Do NOT,” came Cullen's commanding voice and she looked up to see him descending the stairs with a scowl.  “Do not underestimate her,” he ordered gruffly.  She did not see her phylactery on him anywhere obvious.  He examined one of her hands, still covered in green and black paint.  She probably could have resisted, but Luna still hoped there might be some way out of this without her having to murder spree her way to the exit.  Luna shook her head with a resigned laugh.

“You think this is FUNNY?”

Luna raised an eyebrow responding, “Abso-fucking-lutely.  But I don't think that's what you're really asking is it.  You want to know if it's true.”

“I want no such thing,” he growled.  “Bring her!”

She was unceremoniously marched out of the dungeons and towards the tower that had, until recently, housed the Tranquil Mages.  The Tower was over six stories tall, and Luna had managed to paint a message large enough to be visible from Lowtown on it.  She had also painted the Breach in all its green, furious glory, along with the symbol of the Inquisition.  She grinned, dragging her feet as she saw curious onlookers held back by Templars as they tried to get a better view of both her, and the painting.  Worth it.

**TRANQUILITY CAN BE CURED**

**FREEDOM IS NEVER FREE**

**IT MUST BE TAKEN**

**UNTO THE BREACH, MY FRIENDS, UNAFRAID.**

She was pretty sure that mashing together American Idioms and badly paraphrased Shakespeare was making the dead poet roll in his grave.  Still she didn't think it was all that bad of a rallying cry.  It made the point, and she had the satisfaction of having a way to prove she'd known of the breach in advance and had tried to warn them.  They entered the tower and Luna paused a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

“Enchantment?”  Sandal asked with he usual vacant expression.  He stood at the center of the empty room that had housed the Tranquil.  Blood was spattered across his clothing and face.  He smiled when he saw her.  “Luna.  Boom.”

“Well … shit.”

“I'm assuming you can explain HIS presence in these walls?”  Cullen yelled, shoving her into the room.

Recovering quickly Luna pulled out her handkerchief and wiped the blood from the side of Sandal's head with a scowl.  “Is this even yours?” she asked him, ignoring Cullen's question.

“Enough games Mage.  We know you were involved with this somehow.”

“Involved with what Knight-Captain?” she asked briskly.  “I've been under constant watch by a ridiculous number of your Order since arriving.”

“The TRANQUIL!  They are ALL GONE as you can PLAINLY SEE!”

Luna turned to look at him with all a triumphant smirk that all but admitted to him that it had somehow been her doing.  “Is this where you were housing them?!  Oh dear.  Have you informed Meredith?”

“This is why you surrendered!  You damn fool.   She will order the ENTIRE CIRCLE ANNULLED!”

“Well then I suppose you will be off to do her evil bidding like a good little lapdog.”

Cullen stepped toward her, anger written in every line of his body.  Her expression grew dark, not in reaction to his behavior, but at something behind him.  There was a commotion going on outside, screaming, and what sounded like combat.  The building suddenly shook with some sort of impact.  Cullen never saw the blow to his head coming.  Neither did the twelve other Templars in the hall who promptly collapsed at their stations.  Luna was herself startled when he was violently thrown into the cell beside her.

“Alon,” she growled as she recognized the silhouette of her old friend.  “You show up in the damnedest places don't you.”

A barrier flared to life between them thick with bloodmagic and she stared at his bleeding fingers in disgust, shocked by the relization that his blood was the wrong color; rather than crimson it ran a deep midnight blue.  The wards already built into the cell flared to life, feeding on the new magic, and she glared at the intruder.  “Diana,” he said, and she felt her eye twitch at his use of her old name.  “Causing trouble again I see.  Graffiti ... Really?”

“What do you want asshole.”

He barely spared her a glance.  Instead he held up his hand as her phylactery dropped into view, flaring even brighter as it hung from his fingers.  The glow it cast over his features made him appear far more sinister.  “I have what I want.  I've destroyed your little message.  Cullen Rutherford will live to fight with the Inquisition as he was always meant to.  And you … well you won't survive the night.  Goodbye Luna.”  

“What the FUCK is your PROBLEM?  Why do you HATE me so much?!”

He turned back to her and finally exploded.  “BECAUSE YOU KILLED MY WIFE!”

Luna gaped at him, completely stunned.  “NEVER!  You were my BEST FRIEND!”

“That's right … You don't even remember.”  He shook his head bitterly.  “We were cornered, maybe ten, fifteen of us.  We were the last of our kind, huddling together for warmth, in our own stink.  My baby girl died first.”  He grew hoarse with emotion as he spoke.

“Alon, I'm ...”

“Save your platitudes,” he roared, slamming his hand against the door frame, hard enough for it to crack.  He stood straighter and she knew he was preparing to leave.  “They gassed us first, burning, itching melting ... clawing at our own skin.  And WHERE were YOU?”

“I … I don't ...”

“You and your son slipped out the back. You LEFT us to DIE.”

Luna felt numb.  She could FEEL the truth in his words.  Memories of the night in question filtered back to her, settling into place like missing puzzle pieces.  “Oh Gods ...” she whispered.  They'd been cornered.  She had sacrificed them in one last bid for survival.

Alon looked at her with a sort of cold triumph.  “The Gods heard our dying pleas in the end.  They each chose one soul … one soul that spoke for them.  And when you were flooded with the last of our people's power it opened the path.  As the last living conduit, it was YOUR mind, and YOUR blood that directed the portal … and we were dragged with you.  SHE wasn't chosen.”

Meeting his eyes with defiance she finally answered him.  “I didn't kill your wife.  The Shroud did.  I won't apologize for trying to protect my son.”

He scoffed in disgust.  “And that's why I can NEVER forgive you.”  He didn't even bother to bolt or close the door, turning on his heel and  **Accelerating** out of view. 

Cursing in every language she knew Luna knelt to check on Cullen.  He was still breathing and she was startled when Sandal placed a rune on him.  “Not Boom,” he said quietly and Cullen began to stir.  Blinking in confusion the Templar sat up with a roar, slamming her onto her back.

“You'll pay for that!”

“Cullen.  Dumb ass!  I'm locked in here WITH you,” she growled, slamming her forehead into his to stun him, and flipping him off of her.  He groaned, sitting up and actually examining their situation.

“What is going ON here?!”  He approached the door, but apparently was unable to see the barrier and promptly electrocuted himself.  Jumping back while cradling his hand he yelled for the other Templars.

“My traitorous countryman has stolen my phylactery for some nefarious purpose, and trapped me in here with YOU.”  Cullen watched carefully then looked at the now useless Templars.  He nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer.

“That is the first time you've been honest with me.  Perhaps if we yell.”

“Oh, yes. That will be VERY helpful in a dungeon Meredith uses to TORTURE people.”

“I don't see YOU suggesting anything useful,” he snapped.

_I'm not dying in here._

“Alright then.”

“Luna what are you doing?”

 She steeled herself and approached the shielded doorway.  Touching the wards or barrier would hurt her, they were designed to shock anyone trying to leave the cell.  She could still smell the blood Alon had used to erect it and grew angrier.  He had KNOWN blood would be needed to stop her.  This was going to hurt, but that didn't matter, not now.  Ignoring Cullen's warning cry she shoved her hands through the barrier, and began to absorb it.

Electricity wracked her body, throwing her muscles into painful spasms.  She ignored the pain, concentrating on draining the wards instead.  She felt the skin on her hands begin to crisp, and still she fought to maintain contact.  The smell of her cooking flesh filled the room, and she could distantly hear Cullen yelling,  It was as though he were trying to reach her from across a yawning chasm.  

None of that mattered, she had to stop Alon.  There was no telling what damage he  intended to inflict with her phylactery.  She channeled the excess energy into healing the damage being done to her body.  It seemed to be working but she could feel her hands scarring over from the repeated assault of the failing wards.  Luna felt her reserves fill to their breaking point and pulled harder.

The barrier collapsed with a violent snap, and she immediately cast  **Accelerate** to launch herself free.  Then she did something any Mage would tell you was not only extremely stupid, but completely suicidal.  She deliberately repeated the trick she'd used to defeat Anora, and in the abandoned warehouse in Kirkwall.  Luna struggled to layer echantments, one upon another; a second; a third ...

Time slowed and then simply stopped.  Ironically she knew the spell wouldn't hold for long and she took hold of Sandal about the waist.  Upon exiting the tower she saw that Alon had opened a rift, her blood the centerpiece in some deranged attempt to pierce the Veil.  

_The Veil is thin around the Circles._

She activated her  **Draconic Might** and grabbed anyone she could, depositing them as far away as possible, near the docks.  Maybe a dozen mages and civilians stood dazed in the courtyard in what seemed to everyone else mere moments.  

Luna sought the children somewhere in the Gallows;  they were her biggest priority.  She entered the Circle to continue her rescue, and ignored every Templar, except when she relieved them of their keys.  There were sure to be good men and women among them, she simply didn't have the time to spare.

She could feel the wavering of the layered effects of the  **Accelerates** , and was disappointed to find they were already losing cohesion.  She forced more mana through the Sigils in an attempt to stabilize them and deposited the last of the Circle children into a heap at Sandal's feet.  She returned, repeatedly, saving every Mage she encountered from their locked cells.

When she ran out of Mages, she began grabbing the Templars she knew to be innocent of any crime.  Chief among those she rescued was Cullen, whom she was carrying when the spells began to unravel.  She dropped him near the other Templars backing away from them in order to shield them from herself.  Meredith was no where to be found but Luna managed to evacuate hundreds of people.  

Luna deliberately threw herself towards Alon, ripping her phylactery and the Athame out of his hand.  Her spells gave out under the strain with a sonic boom, flinging her back into the normal flow of time with a resounding crack, but the power that threatened to tear her apart was redirected at the fissure.  Black smoke curled around her as her body reasserted itself in reality.  Every muscle in her body stretched painfully as the exertion of what she had actually accomplished slammed into her.  She screamed.

The energy crackling about her shattered the ground, leaving her standing in a small crater.  Alon, bellowing in denial threw a  **Shield** over himself as his spell shattered.  Her own barrier collapsed, but contained the brunt of the force, protecting bystanders from the backlash.  Perhaps five minutes had elapsed from the start to finish of her mad dash.  

 

**[RISE](https://open.spotify.com/track/3PvvsoGjRyF7YhfQXZHUaX?si=egNTZ4VIS-a47HAWmgstWA) – Hans Zimmer : The Dark Knight Rises** **(** **Trust me!!  Play the music while ya read this part.)**

With a thunderous crack the sky lit red as TWO explosions ripped through Kirkwall.  A tornado like vortex centered on the Chantry and ripped it apart like magical 'Jenga.'  She stared up at the swirling destruction in horror.  It was too soon.  Then a torrential blast of energy washed over them, knocking everyone off their feet.

_This isn't right!_

The energy now looming over the Circle was unstable, and it seemed to be expanding the longer she looked at it.  The two explosions were interacting, feeding off each other to grow.  If they couldn't stop it, all of Kirkwall would be consumed.

“What have you DONE?!” she hissed angrily.  Securing her phylactery she  **Accelerated** behind Alon, and held the Athame to his throat.

Alon began laughing despite the blade.  Thick blue-green ichor trickled from around the sharp steel as it cut him.  His aura reached out, his mana writhing against her skin, and she fought the urge to retch. He tried to use some form of magic against her and stagnant sea water welled up from the ground and bubbled around her feet.

He grabbed the naked blade with his hand and wrenched it from her grasp, then back kicked her, flinging her away from him with supernatural speed.  She coughed hard, trying to urge her lungs to to work as pain lanced through her.

“MALEFICAR!” Cullen cried out as they tried to reach her.  The Templars were suddenly held back by some form of energy field that sprang up around the Gallows, separating her from her would be allies. 

She reeled as she tried to stand, palming a rib that was obviously broken.  Alon's eyes began to glow as he traced his fingers against the cut on his throat, healing his wounds casually while she attended her own injury.  He drew a ragged breath, then gestured at the incomplete ritual.  “I was taking us HOME.  ALL of us.  But you've ruined it now,”  he lamented, rage filling every word.

Luna could hear Cullen gathering the Templars in an attempt at banishing the barrier.  It withstood the assault without so much as a ripple.  The Mages also gathered and attempted to batter it down with their spells.  Nothing worked.  The power it would take to create such a large shield … was staggering.  Understanding dawned on her in those few moments.  He was feeding off the power being created by the unstable portal.

If he could draw strength from this calamity, then so could she.  Her eyes began to glow as well, lightning flashing from them, as she gathered electricity around her.  She ignored the collective cries of terror from the remaining onlookers as they witnessed the two Earther's preparing to kill one another.  They would be relatively safe behind the barrier.

“You're always standing in our way.  We could have left this cesspool of a world behind.  But NO.  Not YOU.  No, YOU I'm going to KILL.” 

“Oh, good.  I get a villainous monologue.  Did you practice just for me?”  She drawled with HEAVY sarcasm. 

“I'm not the villain here.  YOU ARE.”

She snorted derisively and accused, “You're insane Vollmond.”  He began laughing at this hysterically and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“You think you're SO smart.  Still that's ...”  With no warning he threw several daggers from hidden sheaths at her with deadly speed.

Luna easily deflected his attacks; backhanding them out of the air. “Why?!”  She dropped her calm facade, allowing him to see the hurt of his betrayal.  “We could have prevented this tragedy!  WE COULD HAVE SAVED THEM!”

Alon shook his head sadly.  He yelled, sounding just as torn as she did.  “We're not MEANT TO SAVE THEM!  This was ALWAYS SUPPOSED to happen! Now you have DOOMED us all!   You had no right to bring us here in the first place.  NO RIGHT to meddle with FATE!”

“There's no such THING as FATE!” Luna snarled. 

He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “Is that so … SEER?”  He picked up a nearby Merchant's stand with one hand and flung it at her with incredible force.  She barely dodged as the entire mass of wood and metal shattered behind her.   “We could have GONE HOME!”

“You knew I would NEVER willingly leave Thedas without my SON!”  Casting  **Draconic Might** Luna uprooted a nearby marble lamppost and tried to flatten him.  She only succeeded in creating several small craters.  Her enemy remained infuriatingly unscathed.  He matched her, move for move, spell for spell and the City of Chains shuddered with their conflict.  Parts of the Gallows collapsed from both the fury of their battle, and the magics trying to rip Kirkwall apart.

Cackling in gleeful triumph Alon discarded the ritual dagger.  “Flynn won't even REMEMBER you.  I saw to that!”

The blood drained from her face.  “YOU BASTARD!  WHERE IS HE,” Luna roared in fury. 

“Blissfully unaware of YOU.”  He dragged his hand through the air, rending it, then reached into the tear that manifested.  His long, blue and green streaked hair was whipped by the currents of energy that rushed around them.  Withdrawing his arm, he pulled a shimmering Trident from the pulsating portal that closed with a snap.  The weapon was crafted of what appeared to be some type of hewn, dark-green stone with a nauseating, pearlescent quality that she couldn't readily identify.

“WHY?!”

“You robbed me of MY family.  I only returned the FAVOR!”  The artifact was shedding mana in waves, strong enough that she could see it in the visual spectrum.  His form shimmered for a moment, revealing his true visage.  His pale blue skin was pebbled in varying sizes of smooth scales, more prominently around his eyes.  His pupils were blown almost entirely black, reminding her of a shark's.  The weapon was now gripped tightly by webbed fingers ending in yellowed claws.

“Didn't realize I'd signed up to battle Cthulhu's minion ...” she growled and drew her weapon from her hair, the blade's worn handle fitting comfortably in her hand.  The carefully tended and sharpened metal glinted with their Runes as red lightning tore the sky.  She only hoped she wielded it well enough to slay the monster before her.  They stalked around each other, and Luna prepared to lunge at the first opportunity.

“Neptune.”  Vollmond corrected. “God of the Seas!”

“One fish God's as good as another,” she mocked.  Alon frowned; clearly offended.  Good, she could work with that.  She was a flurry of lightning and motion, the dagger slicing multiple lines across his arms and torso.  Disappointment flared when she realized the cuts were healing as quickly as she made them.  Retreating a safe distance she loosed a bolt of lighting in his direction, and was unsurprised when he casually absorbed it with the Trident.  “Fuck me.”

“Why? Are you offering,” he asked with a smirk as she scoffed.  “Is this some last minute attempt at persuasion?  No longer content with the brooding elf?” He paused for effect, feigning recollection.  “Oh that's right.  He dumped you.  What you saw in him I'll never understand. I must admit, I relished every moment I spent destroying his trust in you.”  If he was trying to anger her, he was succeeding.  He was suddenly upon her and the Trident struck her in the shoulder, whipping her around as she gave out a shriek.   He managed to disarm her, sending her dagger clattering out of reach.  

His smug confidence grated on her nerves and she tried to shunt the emotion aside.  She couldn't afford to be distracted if she was going to survive.  Her only hope was to keep him talking.  He might have a weakness she could exploit.  She slapped a healing Sigil on the wound to staunch the bleeding as she continually dodged his ferocious attacks.  “Yeah well.  What can I say.  It's the pointy ears.  They do it for me,” she yelled.  

Alon hissed at her.  It sounded like wet socks dragging and slapping over pavement.  He swung the Trident in a great arch, and she braced herself as a sickening wave of power surged towards her.  It tore through the Gallows, ripping up stone and wood as it barreled towards her, too quickly for her to evade.  She breathed a sigh of relief as the power dissipated harmlessly against her skin and dove for her dagger.  A tower collapsed under its own weight behind her.

He blinked in surprise apparently unaware of the extent of her immunities.  “We don't BELONG HERE!”  he roared.  Luna was knocked off her feet when a very physical wave of water slammed into her, pulled from the sea by the Trident.  She searched frantically for her weapon, but it had been swept away.

“Is that what you told Helena when you left her to Blood Mages?!”

Alon flinched and she used the opening the punch him in the face.  He stumbled backward; clutching his jaw.  He recovered quickly, licking the thick fluid seeping from his split lip.  “She deserved to be in that cage!  Her bleeding heart would have let you go unpunished!” 

“Look around!  You're a MONSTER!  She LOVED you!”

“Gods of Love are like that,” he bit out in contempt.  “They're flighty, affectionate, and short sighted.  What sort of God will that make YOU now that you've taken her power?”   Another wave of seawater surged from nowhere, sweeping her off her feet.

 Luna spat up water in disgust, it smelled of the unnameable stench of Kirkwall.  “I'm no GOD you LUNATIC!”

“Semantics.  Avatar, Demi-God, Chosen ... which label would you prefer?  We've been imbued with their power and control over their Spheres.  We are their misbegotten, illegitimate spawn!  But you don't remember any of that DO you.”  He huffed, swinging his weapon as he tried to take her head.  “I've been STUCK here for over TEN years!  Trust me.  We're God enough.  Their own abandoned them LONG AGO!”

“SHUT UP you psychotic asshat!”   They moved in a blur, the speed of each attack increasing as they were fueled by the chaos around them.  The fight was probably impossible to follow for anyone still watching.  Time seemed to slow for her, rubble floating around them as their power clashed.  She lunged, her claws barely missing his chest as he dodged her clumsy attack.  He was getting to her.  She needed to get that Trident away from him.

A gigantic wave engulfed them again.  She fought the current but was slammed bodily against a stone wall.  Debris from the docks followed in its wake and scattered across the courtyard.  An anchor chain, still clinging to chunks of twisted metal and sundered wood settled close by her hand.  “After I kill you, I'll collect that son of yours.  I'll be sure to see to his future,” he said with a look of hatred.  “His blood will work to open the doorway just as well as YOURS.”  The bulk of the water receded to column about Alon's legs as he spoke, swirling around him as they elevated and propelled him towards her.  

_Oh that is IT._

Luna picked up the massive length of chain and whipped it at him with all her strength.  “Stay away from my SON you cock-gobbling fuck stick!”  She didn't take the time to revel in his look of shock as it smacked him across the face.  The satisfaction of seeing him thrown tumbling  across the paved square gave her new strength and she vaulted towards him at phenomenal speed.  The water crashed all around, framing them as the Trident slid across the shattered courtyard.

Recovering himself, he snapped, “You're nothing but selfish TRASH!”  Rising to to his feet, his face oozed more of the greenish liquid he had for blood.  Luna would die before she let him touch her son.  She would die before she let him hurt anyone else.

She used the chain as a whip, driving him back toward the torrent.  Monkey's gift surged through her, steadying her grip, and filling her with confidence.  Luna was a whirlwind, swinging the chain over her neck, using the metal as an extension of herself.  She moved as though dancing with the weapon, every move a deadly calculation.  Alon avoided each blow, but hitting him wasn't her true goal.  She was herding him, and her efforts brought her ever closer to his fallen weapon. “HOLD STILL AND DIE YOU TRAITOR!”

“You've ruined EVERYTHING!” he screamed as he lost his footing.

“Funny, I was going to say the same to you.”  Luna reached for the Trident and he bellowed a denial as her fingers wrapped around the shaft.  Lifting it above her head she then deliberately slammed the head into the ground with all her might. 

“NOO!!!!”

A powerful pulse passed through them but Luna was able to keep her feet.  The tines shattered upon impact; green shards dissolving once severed from the whole.  Luna twirled the remnants of the crystalline weapon in triumph … now it was a staff.  She turned a feral grin at her enemy.  “My Turn.”


	52. SACRIFICE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna stops Alon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THREE songs in this one! O.o
> 
> Last Chapter I'm posting for now. Thank you for coming along! I would love to hear from you. :)

Luna closed the distance between them in the space of a breath; the staff a whirling blur of green as it caught Alon across face.  It struck him across the cheek and nose, whipping him violenting away with a spray of thick fluids.  He jumped to his feet as she tried to hit him again but a wave crashed between them, forcing her to back pedal away.  Alon spat several teeth to the ground along with a mouthful of blood.

He charged her, trying to grab a hold of the staff, and wrench it from her grasp.  It was obvious to her why he would want it back.  It was practically a giant battery that doubled as a weapon.  Dodging him took effort, he was as fast as she was, but she somehow managed to keep one step ahead of him.  Luna dove behind outcroppings, slid under fallen buttresses, and danced out of reach.  In fact it was turning into a rather fun game of keep-away for her.  His claws raked across the stones she had just vaulted and she laughed as he cursed her again.

“STOP PRANCING AROUND AND FACE ME!”

“Well.  If you insist.”Luna mana-charged the staff then swung it into his midsection, channeling all of her strength.  She felt the cracking of bone as he was sent tumbling into the remnants of the Tranquil's tower.  Several more chunks of rubble fell with a rumbling crash, filling the air of the courtyard with more dust and debris.  She took immediate advantage.

When it cleared enough for him to see her again she took a page out of of Bruce Lee's book and gave the staff a twirling flourish, then beckoned him toward her with one hand.  “Come at me bro.”

Alon launched himself with a blood curdling roar, throwing them both to the ground as he straddled her.  He plunged his claws into her chest with a victorious yell only to realize she wasn't there.  Staring in confusion as she vanished into smoke, a single strand of hair floated to the ground, all that remained of the simulacrum.  Seconds later the staff struck him across the back of his head and he spun to the ground with a broken jaw.

Spitting out another tooth he glared at what appeared to be three different versions of Luna egging him on.  Mocking him.  Taunting him.  Bending over and smacking her own ass.  It was obviously an illusion but Alon was beyond reasoning.  He slid his jaw back into place with a grinding crunch and forced it to heal.  The furious man worked his jaw, cycling it to ensure it still functioned.

“ENOUGH!”  He grabbed an enormous piece of rubble, too large to dodge, and flattened the copies in a single blow.  “SHOW YOURSELF COWARD!”  Pieces of debris hit the shield, falling roughly to the ground.  The barrier meant their battleground was fixed.  An impenetrable arena.

She was sitting atop an archway watching and waiting.  Then he spotted her.  Luna's seat crumbled beneath her when Alon destroyed its foundation and she rolled smoothly to her feet as she hit the ground.  Luna's blood pumped loudly in her ears and all her senses seemed more alive.  The two Earthers stood catching their breath and facing each other down.  It reminded her of an old western; that pause in a traditional duel as each awaited their adversary's next move.  

They charged one another without warning, the speed of their assault, blurring into something too quick to process.  Luna was fairing better in their match.  She scored several bone breaking hits in the space of a breath as they slid to stop.  He lunged for her one last time and Luna feinted, her claws sliding into his chest with a hardly a sound.  They stood still for moment, locked in a morbid embrace before Alon lurched back, blood streaming from the gaping wound.

“It's over Vollmond.”

He fell back, leaning against a pillar as his lungs softly gurgled with each breath.  His slow slide to the ground left a smear against the granite.  He laughed, choking as breathing grew more difficult by the second.  “Not my name.  I'm not Vollmond.  He wouldn't have fallen for that.”  He winced as he gave a futile cough.

Luna was breathing heavily, and despite the victory, she didn't feel like celebrating.  He had to be lying … didn't he?  Her fingers steadily dripped viscous blue fluid on the cobblestones.  “Fuck you Alon.  Enough games.  You made me do this.  I didn't want to KILL you.”

Alon seemed too calm.  All of the anger had vanished, replaced with a penetrating stare.  “No time.  To … squabble.  Believe me or don't.” He spat a mouthful of his blood into the dirt.  “You win.  No tricks.  I submit.  Fa … need a favor.” He coughed again, blood seeping between his fingers as he tried to slow the bleeding.

Luna shook her head in anger and disbelief, “Why in the FUCK would I do ANYTHING for YOU.”  She gestured at the destruction that surrounded them.

“You'll do … the right thing.”  He grinned, struggling to speak, his teeth painted vivid blue.  “Tell you … where to find your son ...”

“I can't TRUST you Alon.”  Luna clenched her teeth angrily.  “Damn you.”

The barrier around them began to flicker, threatening to lose cohesion.  She knew that if it dropped she would lose control of the situation.  The Templars would be clamoring to finish them both, and her only clue to Flynn's whereabouts would die during any attempt to convince Cullen to stand down.  Alon seemed to be struggling more as she thought and she warily drew closer.  “Fuck.”  She couldn't save him, but she could delay the inevitable.  Grumbling to herself she tilted her last healing potion into him.

His breathing eased, the wounds in his chest seeping less, but he still cleared his throat of blood.  It was disturbing to realize he was in this condition because of her.  She had brought him to this ruin.  Fighting the obvious pain he was in he started to bargain.  “I need you *cough* to sing me across.”

Luna shook her head in disbelief.  “Seriously?”  She laughed derisively, “Any requests?  This is bullshit.”

“Some … something from Earth.  Reso … Resonates.”

“You know my powers won't heal you.”

“Two fold.  If I die … the Gods prepared … each of us *cough* as conduits.  They need us.  I cannot ... fulfill my function.  *wheeze*  There is no time to prepare *gasp* another, so I pass it on to you.  Sing my soul home … and my power is yours.”  Their eyes met and he grew more adamant.  “Trust *choke* that I love my wife.”

“I can't guarantee you'll be reunited with her.”

“No.  *cough*  But I'm out of options.  Swear it on Flynn's life … that you'll at least try … and I *cough* will believe it.”  His skin was too pale, his ragged breathing becoming unsteady, he was almost out of time.

She believed him.  “I swear on my son's life that I will try to reunite your soul with your wife's.”

“Try … is all I ask.”  Alon reached a hand towards her and she took it to help him sit up.  Leaning in close to her ear he whispered, “He is Dalish.  They live in the wilds *wheeze* of the Freemarches.  His … his name is Davar.”

“Which Clan?  Alon which Clan?” she asked urgently as his eyes started to glaze over.

He didn't appear to hear her, gently kissing her on the forehead and whispering, “By ancient law *cough* I Alon …. Chosen Son of Neptune *gasp* bestow upon this … woman, the sum totality of the powers vest … *choke* … vested in me.” His next breath never came and still he clung to life.

Gritting her teeth she recited in turn.  She would not break her word.  “I Luna – Chosen Daughter of Thoth, Loki, Teshub, and Inanna accept your gift in the spirit in which it is given.  For now and all time.”  Luna shook her head in frustration as her oldest friend and fiercest enemy sagged against her in death.  The shield surrounding the Gallows broke and Luna turned towards the raging Fade Rift.  With a heavy heart, Luna pulled the music to her, and began to sing.

[The Kids Aren't Alright](https://open.spotify.com/track/3Xiwdhq1N82ThUiikffUmT?si=k3czTKLVR8eWiKvnr5C_pA) – Cover by Satellite Empire, Payne  

**We were young the future was so bright**  
**All the neighborhood was so alive**  
**Every kid on the whole damn street**  
**Was gonna make it big and not be beat**

**Now the neighborhood's crack and torn**  
**The kids are grown up but their lives are worn**  
**Oh, how can one little street**  
**Swallow so many lives?**

**Chances blown**  
**Nothing's free**  
**Longing for**  
**Used to be**  


**And Still it's hard**  
**It's hard to see**  
**Fragile lives**  
**Shattered dreams**  


Power encompassed them during the song, and unsurprisingly, creepers grew to cover the ruined buildings.  Several saplings sprung from their manicured confines, their roots bursting through stone, branches reaching for the magical fissure.  Nature fought to reclaim the battleground.  She couldn't be sure, but she was almost certain she caught the hazy outline of a young man vanishing through the portal with a sigh.

She saw him then in all his stunning glory, Poseidon, God of the Oceans, standing amongst the ruins with his deadly trident.  The wind whipped his hair about violently, his eyes stormy with grief, though he nodded in acceptance of her oath.  Then a wave broke upon them with a mighty roar.  When the water receded, Alon's body and the apparition, were gone.  

* * * * * *

Cullen had wasted no time in getting his men around the dangerous magic that threatened to engulf the city.  He wasn't so picky about help that he turned Luna or the few Mages that volunteered away.  In the end the Templar's had been unable to suppress the magic sufficiently and the Mages resorted to placing another barrier over the portal.  It DID help to slow the feeding of the second twister, dissipating it, but the tear in the Veil and its accompanying tempest remained.

 _It sorta looks a little like an uber mini breach … except its mostly red.  Alon's bloodmagic._

Luna glared into the glowing portal.  This was just as much her doing as Alon's if she were being honest.  Cullen had enlisted more Mages in casting the barrier in an attempt to contain it's fury.  It had worked at first, but the Mages were tiring, and dropping unconscious in droves.

She didn't really have much of a plan, and she was not liking the one she had come up with.  The only option now, at least as she saw it, was to remove as much of the mana ripping through the city as possible.  She would use her absorption to leech away the excess power, to remove what was fueling this disaster, and redirect that power to hopefully seal the damage shut.  Luna didn't know enough about the Veil to be certain, but Flemeth's lessons would be helpful in this endeavor.

The rest would be up to Hawke and her other friends.  It was only a matter of time before Knight-Commander Meredith arrived to declare the Circle annulled.  She prayed Fenris wouldn't stand against them when the time came.  She didn't want him to die.  Despite the heated words that had passed between them, and the cruel way he'd discarded her, she still cared.  She didn't think he would ever betray Hawke, but she wasn't confident in her judgment calls anymore.

Cullen came to stand beside her, hand resting on his pommel, and stated the obvious.   "Whatever it is you plan to do, it will have to be soon.  The danger continues to grow."  His tone was grave, and he looked more worried than she'd ever seen him.  The last of the Mages holding the barrier were collapsing, she was out of time.  The crack in reality surged, fingers of lightning bursting forth, seeking targets.  The Mages were fighting to their last … it was impressive.

“Do you remember how I got us through the door,” she asked without looking at him.

He grimaced.  “I don't think I'll ever forget the smell …”  His head snapped between the portal then back to her in sudden realization.  “You don't mean to ...”

Luna suddenly swirled to face Cullen.  “I have something to ask of you.”

He looked startled.  “If it within my power ...”

“Don't concern yourself.  It will not require you to break any oaths.”  She presented him with her Phylactery, pressing it into his palm when he stood staring at it in shock.  “Just in case this doesn't work.  There is an elven warrior named Fenris.  You know of him?”

“I've heard of him yes.  He is often found in Hawke's company if I'm not mistaken.”

She nodded to him sadly.  “If I don't make it … Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't hand it to him in person.  Tell him I would have trusted no one else with it; that I planned on giving it to him … to prove that he could trust ME.”  Cullen looked torn, but she could tell he understood.  “The leader of the Alienage is named Merrill.  Ask her to look in on a Dalish Elf named Davan for me.  He's from one of the Freemarcher Clans … I know its vague, but it's all I have.”

“You have my word ...”

Luna placed one hand on either side of his face.  He was startled, but didn't move to stop her.  Drawing on her powers she cast ****Voice**** , using the magic to modulate her own, and affected an ominous tone saying, "Farewell ... Commander Cullen.  May you find safe Haven."  The glowing eyes were a spectacular finishing touch.

_Heh, chew on that for a while Cullen. Serves you right._

Dropping her hands she resolutely faced the pulsing, dangerous, fissure.  She would have to trust that Flynn would be cared for.  Luna didn't plan on dying, but the odds were truly stacked against her survival.  Either way they would rightly steer their own course now.  Placing the Sigil of ****Healing Hands**** directly over her heart she took one last glance at Cullen.  He was still staring at her in confusion, as she strode directly toward the maelstrom.  She reached her hands to the edge and stopped trying to keep the power at bay.  

"LUNA NO!!!!" came a ragged cry from behind her, but it was too late, the portal was drawing her into itself.  She thought the voice might have belonged to Fenris and sent him a silent apology.  The thrum of power drowned out anything else he may have said.  They had never resolved things between them, and regardless of how angry she had been at him, leaving like this seemed cruel.  She hoped he could one day forgive her.

The moment the energy touched her skin she felt as if her hands were being flayed.  The mana began flowing into her in a torrent.  She couldn't absorb it fast enough.  It was as though she were trying to drain a white water rapid with a garden hose.  It was agonizing, brutalizing all of her senses.  Then it swept her up.  Her body was buffeted by arcane currents that threatened to overwhelm her.   She couldn't be sure, but she may have been screaming.

Her energy channels strained against the onslaught, searing heat building in her veins as she attempted to shunt the power away from the material plane and through the tear.  She could only hope it would hurt no spirits on the other side.  Though considering their proximity to the Circle she hoped any demons succumbed to oblivion.

She cast every spell she knew, layering them for greater effect, risking further overload.  The shields did help somewhat, but were collapsing almost as soon as they came into being.  Her layered healing spells repaired the damage done to her body at a rate too rapid to quantify.  However they were not enough.  She could feel her body slowly being ripped apart.

* * * * * *

[Fenris Theme](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Hg9Zs0etx36vCIP1zsuD7?si=oRzpAxu4QSGk-iuuJlgdXQ) \- Inon Zur

Fenris had charged straight for the Gallows when he learned from Anders that Luna could be found there.  He had begun searching for her the moment the explosions occurred and had found the others managing an argument between Orsino and Meredith that seemed to go poorly.

He berated himself for never considering she could have been captured by Templars.  Of course she would be at the center of whatever chaos had erupted. When was she NOT? He cursed every obstacle in his path.

Fenris arrived just in time to see her speaking with the Knight-Captain and handing him something; before walking straight toward the growing maw.   When he realized what she intended, he yelled her name in an attempt to slow her.  He even threw his sword aside in a bid to gain more speed.  

_No, she wouldn't.  She can't.  Stop!  STOP!_

She had stepped toward the swirling chaos without so much as a backward glance.  He'd called for her to cease, urging her to halt her steady stride into certain death.  He'd thrown himself toward the twisting light and would have joined her if not for the Knight-Captain's timely intervention, wrestling him away from the edge.

The human held him in place as Fenris begged for her to turn back.  He shamelessly pleaded for her to return to him; activating his phasing ability to escape.  Pain lanced through the Lyrium, yet despite evading Cullen, it was too late.  Emptiness clawed at him as he was forced to watch his lover willingly sacrifice herself to save a city that had never given her reason to.

_You gave her no reason to stay._

Luna's scream of agony rose over the roar of the magic before abruptly ceasing.  Its sound would be forever etched into his memory.  The staggering arcane forces began diminishing almost the instant Luna was swept into its depths.  What had been random flashes of pulsing, sickening, red light, became a steady white glow.  

The Templar ceased trying to subdue him, watching the light intently.  Fenris fell to his knees, head clutched in his blackened gauntlets.  He bellowed a denial at the sky, a cry of despair torn from his lips as Cullen looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

His last words to Luna had been reprehensible, filled with vitriol, and undeserved anger even in apology.  He had denounced her, pushed her away, in a tantrum fueled by ignorance and fear.  There was nothing more he wanted than to take the words back.  He had been given every opportunity to approach her.  Instead he had continued to remove any chance of reconciliation like a petulant child.  He had been too blinded by his hatred to listen.

He loved her. Fenris had known that for some time though he'd never braved telling her.

_Coward._

His head hung low; bitter tears falling betwixt his fingers.  He deserved this pain.  Her last thoughts of him would forever be his renouncing of their love; his heartless dismissal of her explanations.  He had thrown it all away, destroying the only thing he could remember truly choosing for himself.

He felt the weight of someone's hand at his shoulder and looked up to see something dangling before him.  Cullen fidgeted awkwardly as he spoke.  “She … she wanted you to have this.  She claimed you were the only one she would ever have trusted with it.”  The Templar looked pained, and turned away as he took it.

“What … what is this?”

“Her Phylactery.  It has gone dark … it is useless now.”  Fenris could not breathe.  Not like this.  He couldn't breathe.

Otherworldly music suddenly filled the air and he looked up, staring into the magic that had stolen her from him.  It was unlike anything he had ever heard, beautiful, and otherworldly.  It could only be coming from the light that had consumed her.  He felt a building anticipation that she might yet survive.  Perhaps it was not too late.  The light became blinding, the music growing louder, but as the notes ended so too did the light, and with it vanished all his hope.  There was no sign of Luna, only the empty ruins of the Gallows, and fading wisps of gossamer smoke.  Fenris felt what was left of his heart shatter.

* * * * * *

[Fight for life](https://open.spotify.com/track/3dspcY3fV7DZ3i9A5Oj6V2?si=PPioArR7SxeOk_Z-71ReWQ) : by Twisted Jukebox

The friendships Luna had earned here, in Thedas, had been the most meaningful of her entire life.  Even though they hadn't all ended as she had hoped, she felt it had all been worth it.  She could truly say that she had lived, loved, and fought well.  She had also failed.  

Luna had repaired much of the damage done by a cruel and thoughtless Hero of Fereldan.  Many had helped her to decimate the slave trade throughout Thedas.  She had saved the lives of hundreds of innocent Mages AND Templars.  She had helped to crown a King.

Her decisions had not been perfect.  There had been plenty of wrong turns.  Yet it had been far more fulfilling than living as she had on Earth.  Here, in the hellscape that was Thedas, she had taken a stand against apathy and won.  Here she had finally made a difference.

She thought of Flynn still, the missing pieces of her heart having gone with him.  If only she had been able to give him more.  If only she had been given the chance to say goodbye.  She hoped he lived a good life.

As she felt the stretching of sinew, and snapping of bone she knew her end was approaching.  Her flesh was disintegrating, stripped by the forces she had sought, in her arrogance, to control.  She groped blindly for purchase in a world without direction as she felt the last of her strength ebb away.  Not knowing what else to do, with one last Goliath effort, she reached out with her mind searching for escape.

Luna wasn't sure how long it had been since she had entered the devastating storm of power.  Though she could still almost hear Fenris' pained voice crying out her name.  Time seemed to have ceased its unrelenting march.  It no longer had any meaning for her.  Instead her world began and ended with all consuming agony.  She was reminded of the parable about grabbing a tiger's tail, all she could do was hold on for dear life, praying it didn't turn and devour her.

Through determination alone she clawed to stay alive, her spells long since having lost their efficacy.  Thinking became difficult as everything seemed to be happening simultaneously.  Had she just arrived, or was she leaving?  She was fighting an uphill battle, slowly losing more of herself in the vortex.  

She felt herself slipping towards a great darkness, drawing her in like a sweet embrace.  Then she felt what she could only describe as the sense that someone's hand was grasping her own, and her senses came alive.  What was left of her body ceased to be.  She was a creature of will, driven by her desire to save the people of Thedas, to stop the further spread of needless despair.   She existed only in this moment.

The pain simply stopped.  She floated, timelessly, as the chaotic energies around her dissipated.  Instead of pain, she was wrapped in welcoming warmth, acceptance, and light.  Music permeated her being, the first wavering notes of a piano and cello echoing her feelings of loss.  A gentle wavering note joined the piano, harmonizing, with the soft sound that seemed to emanate from all around her.  It were as though she were being cradled by the music.  Love and compassion filled her soul, and she found herself wondering why she'd been so sad in the first place.

More notes joined the growing chorus and she basked in it as all doubt seemed to fade away.  Luna was filled with a sense of peace, replacing the turmoil that permeated her thoughts.  She was where she was supposed to be.  Kirkwall was safe, everything would be fine, those she loved would survive.  The years she had spent in the City of Chains had not been wasted.

She felt something caress her face, and smiled knowing she could feel herself again.  There was no broken bone, no painfully rended muscle, or ripped tendon.  Her body was intact, she was whole, as it should be.  Changes great and small were coming to Thedas.  Some good, some bad.  All would right itself in time, despite her failures.

A woman's voice had, wordlessly, joined the building waves of sound as a full orchestra seemed to permeate the blinding light that surrounded her.  She was a medium, the instrument through which the music of creation could sing.  The song didn't seem to come from any one direction.  It had no true ending nor did it have a beginning.  It simply was.

A great shadow fell over her, the all consuming light fading into twilight.  She felt herself being gently lifted away, through the choking smoke, as billowing wings buffeted the air.  The music built to a crescendo, and she felt her heart began to race as the end of her ordeal fast approached.  It was as though she breathed in time with the drum of the universe, then she knew only darkness.

 


	53. BONUS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldnt help myself.
> 
> End Credit Scene. Enjoy!

* * * * * *

**THIS IS NOT THE END LITTLE FOX.  IT IS TIME TO OPEN YOUR EYES.  WAKE UP.**

Luna drew in a breath as two very important things became unavoidably apparent.  First and foremost she was ALIVE.  Second, but perhaps more importantly, she was in serious danger of drowning.  She forced her eyes open, blinded by light and the sting of water as she tried to orient herself.  Searing radiance filtered in columns through the rippling quiet.  She floated, weightless and serene before rising to meet it.

Bursting through the surface she flung her sodden hair behind her in a wave.  She expelled water from her lungs, coughing to clear them as she took in deep agonizing breaths.  Blinking back tears her jaw dropped at the view that greeted her as her vision cleared. Something niggled at the back of her mind, a familiar energy washing through her with the passing of every moment.

Continuing to tread water she noted a vibrant wooded shoreline was easily within swimming distance.  But she could not tear her eyes away from the awe inspiring beauty that encompassed the full range of her sight. The source of the light was the soaring crystalline spires of an alien city.  The sheer magnitude of the floating structures made her dizzy with excitement.

Luna gently propelled herself towards the edge of the lake, never taking her eyes off the city of light.  The water seemed to bite into her strangely sensitive skin and she wanted away from it.  The glide through the water was smooth, every movement of her muscles creaking and feeling clumsy in comparison to its silken caress.

She could hear something faint at first, but growing in intensity as she neared.  Music, ineffable, timeless, and all encompassing flowed over and through her.  This wasn't just the vibration of air molecules creating a sound wave. This was the emotional intent of the composer, the excitement of its creation, and the swell of hidden desire.  She felt overwhelmed with new sensory input and an emotion she could not properly put into words.

As she lay gasping on the beach she noted that she could see far better than should have been possible. She found herself examining the sand, contemplating individual grains of multicolored quartz in fascination. The drum of her heart was accompanied by the steady, rushing thrum of the blood in her veins; the sound driving her to distraction.  Too much.  It was too much information.

She couldn't concentrate on any one thing; not the pebbling of her skin as the unfamiliar floral breeze caressed it, nor the steady cadence of someone casually approaching.  Luna covered her ears and closed her eyes in an attempt at blocking out the world in desperation.  It was wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!

Luna had almost given herself up when she felt the familiar press of someone's aura upon her own, concern and delight warring for dominance in their owner as they examined her.  They were speaking to her she knew, but the lyrical quality to the language only caused her to withdraw from the overlaid empathic overtones.  Even speaking was agony in this place.

She had never had another mind touch her own so easily and it was both unnerving and exilhirating.  Luna was sure she should recognize some of the words being mummured, but there was simply too much input for her mind to process.  She sighed gratefully when she felt them slide a barrier firmly into place.  Whomever it was stopped speaking and merely lifted her into their arms. Relieved, Luna slept.

 


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Real world update**

He died.

I want to die. I made a promise though, and I keep my promises. I don't know how long I'll be gone ... whatever time it takes for me to control my grieving I guess. Because I know I'll never stop grieiving.

This fandom writes the best damn love stories. My husband told me, that I loved to read them, because we were living a tragic one. That one true love stuff we tend to dream about? I had it. He was perfect. He didnt think so, but he was. He didn't judge, loved my flaws, and shared the same dreams. He loved, imperfect, ME.

A piece of my soul is gone, ripped from me too early by a world that doesn't really give a damn. If you find love, sieze it, treasure it. You won't. We're insecure little beings, beaten down and told we're not good enough on a daily basis. The world is wrong. Stop judging yourselves to an unattainable standard. Learn, grow, and reach for happiness. 

I'm here to tell you true love does exist. I had it. It was wonderful, and painful, and I wouldn't trade a single moment of it even knowing the outcome. I had true love, and it was real.

Thank you for all your kind words. Thank you for the prayers, to whomever you worship. Thank you for giving a damn. Thank you for being the best damn fandom in the world. And when I return, because I will, Thank you for your patience. Because I keep my promises.


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter one of Part 2 is Up.  Enjoy.

 

<https://archiveofourown.org/works/15486150/chapters/35949915>


End file.
